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Overview
From tattooed bad boys to sexy billionaires to strapping quarterbacks, there’s something for every romance reader. Download and discover your new favorite author!
Includes excerpts from:
Before You Break by Christina Lee
The Wicked We Have Done by Sarah Harian
Once Upon a Billionaire by Jessica Clare
Hard Time by Cara McKenna
The Kraken King, Part I by Meljean Brook
Nightmare Ink by Marcella Burnard
The Wedding Secret by Jeannie Moon
One Night with a Quarterback by Jeanette Murray
The Whisky Laird's Bed by Donna MacMeans
Pieces of Olivia by Melissa West
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9780698179905 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Penguin Publishing Group |
| Publication date: | 04/01/2014 |
| Sold by: | Penguin Group |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 224 |
| Sales rank: | 901,574 |
| File size: | 1 MB |
Read an Excerpt
INTERMIX BOOKS
A sexy, emotional New Adult romance about a bad boy on the edge and a good girl about to lose control . . .
An excerpt from Christina Lee’s
Available now
“Loved it! Sweet and sexy and full of hope.”
—New York Times bestselling author Monica Murphy
Ella
This was so embarrassing. I was sick to my stomach but thankful that I hadn’t actually puked my brains out. Nothing like blowing chunks in front of one of Joel’s frat buddies.
“I’m okay,” I said, the words like cotton in my mouth. My head was pounding like a steel drum band. “Th . . . thanks for asking.”
Then I felt the heat of Quinn’s body and his soft voice near my ear. “Ella, you need to cover up in case some drunk ass busts in here and sees you.”
Like him? Except he didn’t seem at all drunk. He sounded . . . concerned.
I tried shrugging my shoulders but I wasn’t even sure if they’d moved. Before I had time to register my next thought, I felt his rough hands tug down my T-shirt. And then he took a quick step back, like he was afraid I’d think he was fondling me or something.
I laid my cheek against the toilet seat, praying nothing gross was stuck to it, while the room spun around me. Somehow I didn’t even care. I just needed my stomach to stop sloshing around and for my brain to stop feeling like sludge.
Why the hell had I downed that last shot and then chased it back with a beer?
Oh yeah, because my boyfriend was an asshole and had made me feel like I wasn’t even in the room. Maybe it was time I started being more truthful with myself and with Joel. Tell him how he made me feel and how he needed to cut that crap out. I didn’t know why I’d let things that bothered me go for so long.
“I’ll wet a washcloth,” Quinn said. I heard the faucet turn on and a vanity drawer slide open. “Might make you feel better.”
Before I could protest, Quinn clunked down on the tile behind me, and passed me the wet towel. My hand reached back but I had trouble grasping it; I was that squeamish. Instead, a low groan came out of my mouth.
“I’m gonna help you.” His voice was low and raspy, and right then and there I wished this strange meeting were under different circumstances. That I could actually lift my head and look at him. Figure out what he might be thinking. Discover the true color of his eyes. Were they green or copper or a mix of both? Had he thrown on his university ball cap again or was his russet hair a mess of tangles?
I was pretty sure I didn’t need anyone babying me, especially not mysterious Quinn. But I supposed it could have been worse. Jimmy, who always partied hard, might have tried to cop a feel alone in here with me. I didn’t get that impression from Quinn. He was handsome and broody. It always seemed like he had a lot on his mind. Like he was pretty serious about baseball and school. And not about girls or partying.
“Okay?” he whispered. He was waiting on permission to touch me again. And, God, I appreciated that about him.
“Yeah,” I said, another wave of nausea rolling over me. I swallowed the warm bile in the back of my throat and squeezed my eyes shut.
I felt Quinn’s hot fingers lift up my hair and then smooth it from my shoulders. I attempted to hold in a shiver. His heat mixed with my clammy skin made my stomach do weird flips. Next, I felt the cool cloth against the nape of my neck and I let out a deep sigh. It soothed and cooled my skin.
“If you raise your head, I can wipe your forehead, too.”
“N . . . not sure if I can yet.” I swallowed back my nausea.
I felt his breath against my cheek. “Let me do it.”
Why did this suddenly feel too damned intimate? I prayed that I smelled halfway decent and that my makeup was still intact and not beneath my eyes. I’d never been this up close and personal with Quinn and I felt like he could see all of my flaws. Hell, he’d already seen my ass. I wasn’t petite like my two best girls. I had curves. Curves that Joel used to appreciate.
The question was why did I care?
Quinn was only being nice and I was in no state to think it through more clearly. “Okay.”
His large and rough palm slipped beneath my cheek and gently lifted my head. He swiped the cool cloth over my forehead and then down the sides of my face.
“Hmmmm . . . so good.” I sounded ridiculous, but I couldn’t help it. It was nice being taken care of, even if was by a virtual stranger. A cute, mysterious stranger.
“Can you sit up yet?” he asked, sounding a little breathless. “I can help you back to Joel’s room if you want.”
I shook my head a little too forcefully, causing me to pitch forward and dry heave again. I was suddenly glad I hadn’t eaten any dinner. It might have ended up in Quinn’s lap.
“Shoot.” I lay down with my cheek against the cool tile floor. I could feel my T-shirt rising above my hips again, but again I just didn’t care. Besides, he’d already seen it all. “I’m just going to stay here for a while.”
I listened to him inhale a lungful of air and then release it quickly. “Um, okay. I’m gonna bolt.”
I heard him stand and mutter, “Fucking Joel,” under his breath. “But I don’t like the idea of you being in here all night. I’m gonna check on you again in a little bit.”
“Wh . . . why wouldn’t you want me in here?” I asked. “What’s the big deal? I’ll be fine.”
“Ella, your shirt’s riding up again.” I heard him struggling for words. “You’re in a house full of horny drunk guys and you can’t stand up long enough to lock the door behind me.”
Crap. I didn’t think of it like that.
“But everyone knows me,” I said, with some effort. “I’m Joel’s girlfriend.”
“Sure.” He took a deep breath like he was contemplating saying something else. And then I heard him pace once, then twice. “No offense, Ella, but Joel doesn’t exactly give the guys the impression that you’re off-limits. Not like Brian does with Tracey. Not like I’d do . . .” Breathe in. Breathe out. “Never mind.”
His words stung. But I wanted him to tell me more. To say everything. “No, don’t stop. Finish what you were going to say.”
“No, I better not,” I heard his hollow steps on the tile floor. “I should go.”
“Wait, don’t go yet.” What was I even saying? “Can you . . . can you wet that washcloth again?”
Why would I want Quinn to stay if I hardly even knew him? And why did he make me feel so protected, more than Joel ever did?
“Sure,” Quinn said, and then swore under his breath. “But, Ella, you’ve got to pull your shirt down.”
My eyes flew open. He sounded like he was struggling to keep himself together. To not have naughty thoughts about me. A strange emotion jammed in my chest. I was affecting have-nothing-to-do-with-girls Quinn? I’d admit, I was curious about his answers when the guys were grilling him at the poker table. Why was he never with any girls?
My hands struggled with my T-shirt. “Is that better?”
I was asking him to look at my ass again? Brilliant.
He let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, better.”
I heard him run the faucet and then sit back down.
“Ready?”
“Yes, please.”
He shifted my hair over my shoulder again and then I shivered against the coolness of the cloth. “Hmmm . . . feels nice.”
I felt Quinn’s fingers shaking and I wondered what the hell was wrong with him.
“Quinn . . .” I rasped out. He didn’t answer me, just remained silent but I could hear his harsh breaths, like it was taking some effort to contain them. Had I done something to upset him? Did he wish he hadn’t stayed?
“I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have asked you to stay. I just . . .” I struggled to get my thoughts out. “You can leave now. I’ll be okay. You sound . . .”
“No, I’m cool,” he said and his fingers relaxed against my neck. We stayed quiet for another couple of minutes; the only sound was our breaths. It was a comfortable silence and I was glad to not be alone. He dabbed at my forehead and cheeks and then put the cloth back on my neck.
I wanted so badly to continue our conversation from before but I didn’t know him or his moods. Would he get mad if I pushed him about it?
“Quinn. Would you mind . . . if I asked you to finish what you were saying . . . um, before?”
“I shouldn’t have talked about Joel like that,” he said in a rush.
“Things haven’t been right between Joel and me for weeks. And I’m sure it shows,” I said, swallowing several times. “I guess I keep hoping we can work it out, make it what it once was.”
“Which was what?” he mumbled.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what made it special?” His voice was low, soft. “What did you guys have . . . that’s now lost?”
There was no sarcasm in his voice. Only Sincerity. Honesty. Curiosity.
It made me wonder how many relationships he’d been in. Made me want to lift my head and see whether there was any emotion in his eyes. But I didn’t want to risk puking on him.
All I had to go by was the sound of his voice.
Quinn
“I don’t know,” she said, like she was thinking it through out loud. “Maybe it just felt like something more.”
And then she went still, so I waited for her to finish her thought. I wanted to tell her that maybe Joel was the kind of guy who only made girls feel like there was something more, but I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.
It’s not like I knew anyway—I wasn’t inside Joel’s head. Maybe he’d kept her around as long as he had because they had something special together. Maybe he thought he’d try to take it to the next level. More serious than he’d ever been with other girls.
Except, he sure had a hell of a way of showing it.
What the fuck was I still doing in this bathroom with Joel’s girl? I was going to get my ass beaten. But, shit, someone needed to be in here, protecting her. Taking care of her. Having a middle-of-the-night conversation with her.
And more. So much more.
She was only wearing a T-shirt and pink skimpy underwear. No bra. And her damn sexy voice telling me how good the wet washcloth felt against her skin almost made me come unglued.
And those legs. Strong and shapely. They could wrap around my waist so easily. With that dragonfly tattoo on her ankle that I wanted to know more about.
For a brief moment I imagined Ella being stone-cold sober, begging me to kiss her, touch her, and be inside her.
She’d have to be sober for me to touch her. She’d also have to ditch Joel. No way would I get myself involved in something like that again. Keeping things on the down low wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. It hurt people. Even killed them. And you paid for that shit.
You paid every single day for that shit.
Fuck. I couldn’t even believe I was entertaining thoughts like that about this girl.
Someone else’s girl.
And then Ella started talking again. Her voice was soft and breathy. Like fingernails raking through my hair and then down my back.
I needed to cut that crap out.
Damn, I should’ve been glad she couldn’t see my raging hard-on.
“You know that feeling at the beginning of a relationship with someone?” she asked. “When you’re excited to talk to them, see them, and spend time with them? And you absolutely know the feeling is mutual? At least, at first?”
“Yeah, I do,” I said, thinking about the couple of girls I’d dated over the years.
“Is that what you were hinting at before . . . before you stopped yourself?” She rolled her head to the other side and her hand came up to rub her temple. I reached over to do it for her before my fingers fell short. I needed to stop touching her before I started liking it too much.
“Maybe. I just think . . .” I rushed my fingers through my hair. “If you’re going to be with somebody, then really be with them, you know? And if you have doubts or change your mind, don’t string them along. Talk to them about it.”
“Is that what you think Joel is doing—stringing me along?” She sounded hurt, like a wounded animal. And I didn’t want to be the one to make her feel that way.
“Hell if I know,” I said. “That’s for you guys to figure out. I just know it should be him in here, not me. And maybe . . . maybe you should tell him that.”
“How would you do things differently? If you were with . . . a girl.” She seemed hesitant asking me. Shit. Did she wonder if I was gay, too?
Or maybe she just felt she was overstepping bounds.
If anyone had disregarded boundaries tonight, it was me. I hoped she’d stop asking me questions about Joel. Joel was not Sebastian. I just wished I’d had the courage to speak up to Sebastian sooner.
Before I ruined his life. His family’s life. My life.
“First, I’d make sure the girl was worth it,” I said trying to hide the bitterness in my voice. It wasn’t totally Amber’s fault. I was just a weak-ass fool.
“What do you mean?” she sounded so sleepy. Good thing, because that was the extent of the talking I was willing to do about any of that.
“How about I tell you another time and you try to close your eyes for a bit?”
She mumbled something else and then all I heard were her soft breaths.
Before I knew it, my eyes drifted closed as well.
I jerked awake a while later. My neck was stiff from falling asleep against the wall and my legs felt tight and tense.
Ella had somehow managed to prop her head against my leg. And shit if my hand wasn’t tangled in the back of her hair. It was soft and shiny, even though it looked like a long knotted mess in some spots.
What the fuck? Anyone could have walked in here and seen us. And I hoped to hell no one had. Or used their phone to take a photo or some other shit.
I carefully moved her head off my leg and then sprang to my knees. I should have done this an hour ago and been asleep in my own bed by now. I lifted Ella into my arms and then carried her to Joel’s room. My forearm was beneath her ass, but I ignored the feel of her skin against mine.
The house was so quiet I doubted anyone had been up. I breathed a sigh of relief.
Ella shifted in her sleep and draped her arm around my neck. Her head was against my lips and hell if I didn’t take a quick whiff of her hair. And damn if she didn’t smell like almond shampoo.
Joel didn’t stir when we inched inside the room. I slid her down next to him and got the hell out of Dodge.
Ella
Joel’s loud snores woke me out of a deep sleep. How did I get back in his bed? I vaguely remembered being in Quinn’s arms and fitting snugly against his hard chest. He smelled spicy and woodsy mixed together. Different from Joel, who, lately, smelled like beer and weed.
Heat crept up my cheeks when I remembered that Quinn saw me practically naked. I shot straight up in bed and then squeezed closed my eyes as the room tilted at a severe angle.
Quinn also said some things about Joel. Stuff I already knew but was afraid to admit.
I stood on shaky legs to gather my clothes. My stomach growled in protest to last night’s events. I needed to eat something. And soon.
“Joel,” I whispered in his ear while nudging him. “Want to get some breakfast?”
“Just wanna sleep.” He smashed his pillow over his head. “You go. And bring me back something.”
Anger flared in my gut. “I’ll just go home to eat. I’ll call you later.”
I quickly changed and sprinted out the back door, thankful I didn’t run into anybody on my way out.
When I walked through the apartment door, Avery was sitting in her blue scrubs on the couch, a cup of coffee in her hand. The distinct smell of nail polish remover was in the air, making my stomach curdle.
Avery refused to let me pay rent. She’d convinced me to move in, telling me I’d be helping her out, since she was always at Bennett’s place and her lease wasn’t up for another few months. So I paid for the groceries and utilities.
She’d admitted she wasn’t comfortable alone in her apartment anymore since her mother’s ex-boyfriend had tried breaking in last fall. Even though he was now serving time on an attempted rape and assault charge, she’d said living here would never be the same.
“Thank God you made coffee.” I sagged against the door frame.
“Good morning to you, too, bitch,” she said, a mischievous grin on her face.
“Yeah whatever, dill weed, just tell me there’s milk for cereal.”
“Of course. You know I rarely drink it,” she said, propping her brightly painted toes on the table in front of her. “You look like shit. What the hell happened last night?”
I stalked to the kitchen like a girl determined to eat after a week in the desert. “I drank one too many on an empty stomach and then got sick.” I pulled down a mug and a bowl from the cupboard.
“What’d you do, puke on Joel?” she asked, admiring her paint job by wiggling her toes. “I would’ve liked to have seen that.”
“Actually, Joel was passed out,” I said, reaching for the milk. “But I did almost puke on Quinn.”
“Quinn?” she asked twisting to look at me. “Star catcher for TSU, Quinn?”
“Yep.” My cheeks flushed remembering our night spent in the bathroom. The floor was gross, the lights dim, but Quinn’s voice was warm, sweet, and all kinds of sexy.
She snapped her fingers and motioned to the cushion beside her. “Details now, asshead.”
I moseyed toward the couch with a full bowl and propped my knee on the arm of the chair.
“I was struggling to make it to the bathroom,” I said around a mouthful of cereal. Raisin Bran never tasted so damn good. “He kind of helped me. Even wet a washcloth for me.”
“Seriously?” she asked, one eyebrow arched. “I can tell you’re holding something back. Spill.”
“It’s just . . .” I huffed out a breath. “It was a strange night. He stayed in the bathroom with me and we kind of . . . talked.”
She twisted her bottom lip, calling bullshit. My trademark tell. “That’s all that happened?”
“Of course,” I said, after gulping some milk from my bowl. “Do you think I’d actually cheat on Joel? Besides, it wasn’t like that. It was sweet.”
“Oh, I trust you. It’s the other guy I’m not sure about,” she said folding her arms. “It’s just that you sound kinda breathy talking about Quinn. Did we develop a crush on him while puking in the bathroom?”
“Yeah, like that’d be possible.” It actually might have been possible, but I wasn’t going to tell Avery that. “It was embarrassing.”
Then my hands felt all clammy. “Know what else was humiliating?”
Avery went back to wiggling her pink toes. “What?”
“I only had on a T-shirt and underwear and I pretty much flashed him my ass a few times,” I said, setting my bowl no the counter. “And not on purpose.”
“Oh, I bet he got an eyeful. I wish I had your ass, girl.” Then her mouth drew into a thin line. “Did he try anything with you?”
“No way. That’s the sweet part. He told me to pull my shirt down and even pulled it down once for me,” I said, plopping down on a kitchen barstool. “Said he didn’t want to leave me in the bathroom alone with all the horny guys in the house.”
“Really?” Avery said, dipping her head back to look at me. “Quinn just scored a few points on the good-guy meter.”
“He also said some stuff about Joel.” Shoot. Why had I let that slip out? Joel was already on Avery’s shit list for acting like a douche the last few weeks.
She twisted to give me her full attention. “What did he say?”
My voice came out sounding strangled. Even I didn’t want to admit it out loud. “He . . . kind of said that Joel wasn’t that great of a boyfriend because he was passed out in the next room.”
She aimed her nail file at me. “He’s got a point, you know.”
“I know how you feel about Joel,” I griped. “We’ve definitely got stuff to work out. It wasn’t always like this.”
“I’ll admit I liked him at the beginning. He seemed really into you. But lately . . .” She gave me a stern look. “The question is: How do you feel about him?”
I rinsed my bowl in the sink, feeling full and satiated. “I don’t know anymore.”
“Girl, you might be loyal to a fault. You need to take care of you.”
“I know,” I said, pulling down the dishwasher drawer.
“Out of all of us, you have your head screwed on straight,” she said. “The way you worked through what happened with your brother . . .”
She stared at the wall, contemplating her next words. I leaned again the counter, wondering where she was going with this. Avery knew me better than anyone, outside of my family.
“I know I rag on you for your psycho bullshit, but I realize you take it seriously. And it’s helped you work through stuff.”
“Which reminds me . . .” I pushed off the counter and then plopped down on the cushy chair across from Avery. “There was a guy who called the hotline last night.”
I laid my head against the arm of the chair, thinking about Daniel. “He reminded me of Christopher.”
“Sometimes I wonder if the hotline is such a good idea,” Avery said. “For Christ’s sake, you had a brother who committed suicide in high school, Ella. Don’t be such a fucking martyr.”
My hand absently ran over the dragonfly tattoo that Avery’s boyfriend, Bennett, designed for me last fall, in memory of Christopher.
“You’re wrong, Avery,” I said, raising my head. On this fact I was emphatic. “Working there has been so rewarding. I want . . . I need to help people.”
“Okay. Okay,” she said, lifting her hands. We’d had this discussion too many times to count. “I should know better than to argue mental health with you. I’m way out of my league.”
A key scraped in the door, and I knew it was Bennett. The guy was pretty dreamy, I’d give him that. And if I was being honest with myself, Joel had nothing on him. Sure, Joel was cute and a decent kisser, but he wasn’t straight-out sexy like Bennett was.
Or Quinn.
Where in the hell had that thought come from?
His height, his muscled forearms from baseball, his fit stomach and calves. I had always noticed him peripherally, but being in that bathroom with him had given me a more solid perspective of him. Not physically speaking, because I couldn’t see him. But I certainly could feel him. His presence. He had a quiet kind of intensity that made me feel safe and warm.
In all the wrong places.
Joel was thin, without an ounce of fat on him. And it wasn’t that I was fat, but I had hips and breasts and wished my stomach were as flat as Avery’s. If I worked out like she did, I might get rid of it, but I’d never been one to love physical exertion.
I’d also never been one to care about body type, but there was just something so appealing about Quinn. The way he moved, carried himself, with this gentle confidence. It was different from Joel, who was almost cocky.
“Hi, Ella.” Bennett plopped down on the couch next to Avery and pulled her into a steamy kiss. Damn, they were annoying to be around. Hadn’t they just seen each other a few minutes ago?
Avery pulled away, breathless. And then gave me a devilish grin. “What do you know about Quinn from the frat house, baby?”
I shot her a dirty look.
“The dude who plays baseball for TSU?” Bennett shrugged. “Why don’t you ask your friend Rachel? Aren’t athletes her specialty?”
My stomach twisted at his words. Crap. I hadn’t thought of that. She did like her jocks, and she wasn’t choosy.
Avery gave Bennett a pointed look that he seemed to understand. I wish Joel and I had a secret language we connected on. We didn’t connect on much of anything lately. Maybe we never really had. I’d clung to Joel like he was my next breath, especially after I found out he’d known my brother. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that so blindly.
Bennett mouthed Sorry and then turned to me. “You know who would know? Nate. Ask him.”
Nate was Bennett’s friend. And he spent lots of time at frat house parties. But I sure as hell wasn’t going to go around asking people about Quinn, like I had some lovesick crush or something. I had a relationship to worry about. To work out, if I could.
“No thanks. I am not on some mission to find out more about Quinn, for God’s sake.” I headed to my bedroom to jump in the shower.
I realized Joel probably didn’t know a whole lot about Quinn, either, despite living with him. Which made him all the more mysterious.
Read more
Read on for more about Christina Lee’s Before You Break.
An excerpt from Sarah Harian’s exciting dystopian New Adult romance
A Chaos Theory Novel
Available now
“If The Running Man and The Hunger Games had a baby on steroids: this would be it. You will be glued to each amazingly horrifying page.”
—New York Times bestselling author Molly McAdams
Other than a huge deck overlooking the forest, there isn’t much else to explore in the stone-crusted lodge. The air outside is clean and cool, dense with the scent of evergreen and soil.
We’ve been dropped in the middle of nowhere.
The rest have woken. Casey wears a grimace like he’s ready to beat the living hell out of someone. I’m starting to wonder if he always looks like a vicious dog.
Stella walks into the kitchen. She unzips her backpack and rummages through cupboards, collecting various cans of food and tossing them into her bag.
“It’s a bad idea,” Casey calls from the living room.
“What is?” I ask.
“I’m leaving,” Stella says. She flips back her blonde hair and zips up her pack, tossing it over her shoulder.
“Leaving? To where?”
“They knocked us out, dumped us here, and gave us survival gear. So I’m going away. To anywhere.”
“So you’re going to wander into the wilderness?” Valerie chuckles sarcastically. She leans back against the marble of the kitchen island. “Great plan, dipshit.”
Stella’s fingers grip the straps of her backpack so tightly that her knuckles are white. “They gave us provisions, and there’s no way in hell I’m sticking around here with you creeps.”
“You have no idea what’s out there,” Casey says.
Stella barks a laugh. “You honestly think I’m safer here? With a bunch of killers and a rapist?”
“I’ll only show you a good time, sweetheart,” says Salem as he rummages through cabinets on the other side of the kitchen. It’s such a half-assed comment, like he’s making his presence known because he can.
“Point taken,” says Casey. “But if they gave us provisions, outside must be where our tests are.”
“Oh, stop pretending you care what happens to me. You’re as bad as Salem. All of you are.”
Casey tenses. “You don’t know me.”
“And you don’t know me,” says Stella. “I’m not afraid of those tests because I shouldn’t even be here.”
Valerie scoffs. “Oh yeah, I’m sure you were totally justified in burning alive your boyfriend and his whole family.”
Stella winces. “Fuck you,” she hisses before crossing the living room and heaving open the front door.
“Good riddance,” Casey says when she’s gone.
The tension after Stella leaves is awkward and volatile. Her departure brings the realization that not only do we not know where we are, but we can’t trust anyone we’re stuck with. We’ve been given provisions, so it’s obvious that, if this is the Compass Room, we are meant to head out. It’s either that or stay in a house full of psychopaths.
While Valerie and Jace sit out on the deck, Salem and Gordon speak quietly to each other in the kitchen. Casey’s retreated upstairs, and I’m left in the living room with Tanner, Erity, and Blaise.
I haven’t heard Blaise speak once. Dark and tall, he lies on the couch, his limbs dangling over the sides. He clutches a leather-bound book to his chest that he must have picked up from the shelves in the living room. It looks like a Bible.
Tanner sits in the armchair next to mine. His gaze is fixed on Blaise, intent.
Soon, the silence is so thick in the living room, so hot and itchy and unbearable, that I have to say something.
“Do you think Stella is telling the truth?” My voice is so quiet that I’m not even sure Tanner heard until he breaks from Blaise.
“Her trial suggests otherwise.” He pushes his glasses up with his forefinger.
I stare at him blankly.
“Please tell me that you know of her trial.”
I glance around at a lifeless Blaise, at Erity, caught up in a book and not paying us an ounce of attention, and then at Gordon and Salem, both of whom are invested in a certain kitchen cupboard.
“I’ve kind of been in jail.”
“We all have kind of been in jail. I’m pretty sure I’ve kind of been in jail longer than you have.”
I lean back in my chair. “Does that mean you’ve studied up on us?”
“All of you, but not as thoroughly as I’ve studied the Compass Room itself.” He narrows his eyes.
“What?” I say defensively. “No, I didn’t research Compass Rooms after my sentence. Nor did I go out of my way to research any of you.” I hug my torso, as if that will make the next words out of my mouth any more comforting. “It’s pointless research if you’re going to die anyway.”
“I guess if that’s the way you see it.” He shakes the bangs away from his face. “Or your plan all along was to harass another criminal to explain everything to you.”
I scoff. “Looks like you’ve figured me out.”
“To answer your question, Stella is one of the harder reads. Evidence of her crime is pretty inarguable. The fire was started by a cigarette and a photograph. She was outside the house sobbing when the fire department arrived, and she hadn’t called 911. Nicotine residue was found on her fingers.”
“Yet she believes she’s going to survive this.”