I watched Dawson, trying to remember what Daemon and Dee had said about him. Dawson was the nice one, funny and charming—the male equivalent of Dee and nothing like his brother.
But this Dawson was different: morose and distant. Besides not talking to his brother, from what I knew, he hadn’t said a word to anyone about what had been done to him. Matthew, their unofficial guardian, thought it was best no one pushed for more.
Dawson hadn’t even told anyone how he escaped. I suspected Dr. Michaels—that lying rat bastard—had led us on a wild goose chase to find Dawson to give himself time to get the hell out of Dodge and had then “released” Dawson. It was the only thing that made sense.
My other guess was much, much darker and more nefarious.
Dawson glanced down at his hands. “Daemon… He loves you, too?”
I blinked, brought back to the present. “Yes. I think so.”
“He told you?”
Not in so many words. “He hasn’t said it, said it. But I think he does.”
“He should tell you. Every day.” Dawson tipped back his head and closed his eyes. “I haven’t seen the snow in so long,” he said, almost wistfully.
Yawning, I glanced out the window. The nor’easter everyone predicted had hit this little speck of the world and had made Grant County its bitch over the weekend. School had been canceled on Monday and today, and the news last night said they’d still be digging everyone out by the end of the week. The snowstorm couldn’t have come at a better time. At least we had an entire week to figure out what in the hell we were going to do with Dawson.
It wasn’t like he could just pop back up in school.
“I haven’t seen it snow like this ever,” I said. I was originally from Northern Florida, and we’d gotten a couple of freak ice storms before but never the white, fluffy stuff.
A small, sad smile appeared on his lips. “When the sun comes up, it’ll be beautiful. You’ll see.”
No doubt. Everything would be encased in white.
Dawson jumped up and suddenly appeared on the other side of the room. A second later I felt warmth tingle along my neck and my heart rate pick up. He looked away. “My brother is coming.”
No more than ten seconds later, Daemon was standing in the doorway of my bedroom. Hair messy from sleep, flannel pajama bottoms rumpled. No shirt. Three feet plus of snow outside, and he was still half naked.
I almost rolled my eyes, but that would’ve required I take my eyes off his chest…and his stomach. He really needed to wear shirts more often.
Daemon’s gaze slipped from his brother to me and then back to his brother. “Are we having a slumber party? And I’m not invited?”
His brother drifted past him silently and disappeared into the hallway. A few seconds later, I heard the front door close.
“Okay.” Daemon sighed. “That’s been my life for the last couple of days.”
My heart ached for him. “I’m sorry.”
He sauntered over to the bed, his head cocked to the side. “Do I even want to know why my brother was in your bedroom?”
“He couldn’t sleep.” I watched him bend down and tug the covers. Without realizing it, I’d grabbed them again. Daemon pulled once more, and I easily let them go. “He said it was bothering you guys.”
Daemon slipped under the covers, easing onto his side and facing me. “He’s not bothering us.”
The bed was way too small with him in it. Seven months ago—heck, four months ago—I would’ve run laughing into the hills if someone said the hottest, moodiest boy in school would be in my bed. But a lot had changed. And seven months ago, I didn’t believe in aliens.
“I know,” I said, settling on my side, too. My gaze flickered over his broad cheekbones, full bottom lip, and those extraordinarily bright green eyes. Daemon was beautiful but prickly, like a Christmas cactus. It had taken a lot for us to get to this point, being in the same room with each other and not overcome by the urge to commit first-degree murder. Daemon had to prove his feelings for me were real and he did…finally. He hadn’t been the nicest person when we first met, and he had to really make up for that. Momma didn’t raise a pushover. “He said I remind him of Beth.”
Daemon’s brows slammed down. I rolled my eyes. “Not in the way you’re thinking.”
“Honestly, as much as I love my brother, I’m not sure how I feel about him hanging out in your bedroom.” He reached out with a muscular arm and used his fingers to brush a few strands of hair off my cheek, tucking them behind my ear. I shivered, and he smiled. “I feel like I need to mark my territory.”
“Shut up.”
“Oh, I love it when you get all bossy-pants. It’s sexy.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
Daemon inched closer, pressing his thigh against mine. “I’m glad your mom is snowed in elsewhere.”
I arched a brow. “Why?”
One broad shoulder shrugged. “I doubt she’d be cool with this right now.”
“Oh, she wouldn’t.”
More shifting and our bodies were separated by a hairbreadth. The heat that always rolled off his body swamped mine. “Has your mom said anything about Will?”
Ice coated my insides. Back to reality—a scary, unpredictable reality where nothing was what it seemed. Namely Mr. Michaels. “Just what she said last week, that he was going out of town on some kind of conference and visiting family, which we both know is a lie.”
“He obviously planned ahead so no one would question his absence.”