Sauter (Ironside Academy, #3)(30)
“Moses.” Theodore rolled his eyes, and the mood began to lighten immediately, with Cian and Niko both jumping on Theodore and demanding he change his answer.
Isobel and Kilian tried to pick light-hearted questions after that, but Sato still refused to answer any of them, earning himself last place, while Isobel, Kilian, and Theodore tied in first place.
“How should we settle this?” Theodore asked, his competitive streak rearing its head, as he swept his eyes over Isobel and Kilian cuddled up in a chair before turning his attention back to the camera.
Sato suddenly started laughing, and then he stood. “This one,” he said, flashing his phone screen before tucking it into his pocket. “I like this idea. Whoever lasts the longest locked alone with me in a dark room, wins. Except we’ll do the garden shed, instead. If any of you break before three minutes is up, I get top spot and you all have to share last place.” He started to stride off but paused at the edge of the platform. “Kilian, you’re up.”
Kilian didn’t exactly have time to argue before Oscar strode away, and he was left sitting there in silence with everyone else. Locking himself in a cramped, dark space with Oscar was very far down his list of priorities, especially with Isobel snuggled into his lap, but there was suddenly a staff member with a camera notched onto his shoulder and a timer pulled up on his phone rushing to the platform, and everyone else had turned to see what he would do.
He lifted Isobel and plopped her back into his seat before striding off without a word. The cameraman followed him, so he tried to relax his expression, but it soon became glaringly obvious that all the students gathered on top of Alpha Hill for movie night had their screens lighting up their faces and were watching the live stream with rapt attention.
He pushed into the garden shed and slammed the door behind him, turning on his phone’s flashlight and dropping it onto one of the workbenches.
“What’s got your panties in a twist?” Oscar asked, sitting on the bench, and examining his nails.
“I was comfortable where I was,” Kilian sulked, crossing his arms.
Oscar smirked. “You know someone has already stolen her, right? Probably Cian. Maybe even Gabe, just to fuck with Theo.”
Kilian itched to check the live broadcast to see if it was true, but forced his arms to wind back in an exaggerated stretch instead. “Are we gonna make out or what?”
Oscar laughed, his eyes glittering darkly. “Nice deflection. How about I describe what it was like to make out with the person you actually want to get your hands on?”
“When did you make out with Cian?”
“When did you get so funny?” Oscar’s smile suddenly disappeared, and all the glitter twinkled right out of his stare, rendering it blacker than black. “I don’t want to hand out massages so here it is, Kili. She tasted exactly like how I knew she would. Like fear, and sweat, and fistfuls of crushed cherries leaking all over her skin. Her little whimpers and moans and the way she pressed against my dick—”
“Yep, I’m out. This was great. Let’s never do it again.” Kilian stormed out of the shed, ignoring the cameraman checking the timer on his phone as he rushed back to the stage.
The worst part was … Oscar wasn’t lying. That was what Isobel tasted like, at least partly. But Oscar hadn’t said a thing about the rich, heady syrup scent she gave off, and how her skin tasted like that when she clenched her thighs together and sucked on her lip like she was trying to savour the aftertaste of her favourite candy.
Kilian found himself clinging onto that fact, but then quickly grew irritated that Oscar had managed to turn it into some sort of fucked-up competition in his head.
Isobel didn’t belong to any of them, and she never would.
It was impossible.
There was no competition. Whether Oscar tasted her or whether Kilian did, she would always be unattainable. More so now than ever, because Kilian’s ex was the one who helped to cut her open and defile their bond.
5
Seven Minutes In Hell
Theodore wasn’t expecting much, but he definitely expected longer than Kilian lasted, and he sighed as he got up to take his turn next. Isobel stole his seat as soon as he stood, as though she needed to give Kilian a break, and he tried to tamp down on the rush of satisfaction it gave him.
Not because Kilian would be disappointed—he couldn’t begrudge Kilian needing physical contact all the time, that was just who he was, even if Theodore found it endlessly infuriating to have his bergamot and bark scent saturating Isobel.
It was more to do with the illogical urge to claim and possess. Isobel belonged in his chair because she belonged to him.
Stop. Fucking hell, just stop.
He stalked off and burst into the garden shed ready for a fight. Oscar chuckled as he closed the door behind him, throwing them into darkness.
“You make it too easy, Theo.” Oscar turned on his phone’s flashlight, setting it beside his thigh. He was sitting on one of the workbenches, looking like he had already won the game.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Theodore plastered on a wide smile. “You didn’t try to make out with Kilian, did you? He practically ran back.”
“If I had, he’d be running for a cold shower. Why do you ask? Jealous I might have seduced both of your best friends?”