Chapter 164: Boyfriend Instincts

The bite was still there in the morning.

Blair stood at the washroom mirror in Dormitory G, her hair still damp, her sweater collar pulled to one side. The faint mark sat just above her collarbone. Exactly where he had meant to put it.

Her face went hot all over again.

She tugged the collar back into place. It covered the mark as long as she stood still. If she turned her head, or reached for anything, or breathed too deeply, the edge peeked out.

She would just...have to stop breathing.

Behind her, a stall door opened. Blair spun so fast she cracked her elbow on the sink.

The small girl in the bathrobe stood there with her toothbrush. She looked at Blair’s hand clamped over her collar. Then at Blair’s face.

"Morning," the girl said carefully.

"Morning," Blair squeaked.

The girl brushed her teeth at the far sink and didn’t glance over once. Blair decided she liked her very much.

On the way downstairs, she went over the nurse the way Jack wanted. Bright teeth. Tidy bun. A friendly voice. A syringe already in her pocket. Down to her shoes, he’d said. Blair couldn’t remember the shoes.

Daemus was sitting on the low wall outside the dormitory door with a paper bag in his lap.

He held it up before she reached the bottom step. "You didn’t eat dinner."

"How do you..."

"Boyfriend instincts." He shook the bag. "Egg buns. Two. And a sausage thing."

She sat beside him on the wall. He handed her a bun and watched her bite into it with deep satisfaction, as if he had baked it himself.

Then she reached for the second bun, and her collar slid.

Daemus went still.

She knew exactly where he was looking. Her hand wouldn’t move to fix it. She sat with the bun halfway to her mouth and her heart going hard.

For a long moment he didn’t speak. Then he reached over and, very gently, drew her collar back up over the mark. He smoothed it flat with his thumb.

"There," he said.

Her eyes stung. "Daemus..."

"No, no, eat your bun."

She didn’t eat her bun. She set it down on the bag and looked at his mouth instead, and he saw her do it.

His silver eyes darkened. "Don’t look at me like that."

"Like what?" she whispered.

"Like you want me to kiss you where the whole dorm can see."

Blair glanced up at the windows of Dormitory G. Then back at him.

He made a low sound in his chest. Then he took her face in both hands and kissed her.

It was slow and deliberate, as if he were writing his name on her mouth. He tilted her head where he wanted it. His tongue traced the seam of her lips, and when she opened for him with a soft, helpless sound, he swallowed it.

Blair fisted both hands in his jacket.

He lifted her off the wall and sideways into his lap in one easy movement, and she let him. His hand settled on her hip. He went still, his nose against her cheek, breathing her in. Then his hand moved off her hip and onto her thigh.

He kissed her again, deeper and hungrier, until she forgot where they were. She slid her fingers into the hair at the back of his neck and pulled him closer, and he groaned into her mouth.

Above them, a window banged open.

"OH MY GOD," someone shrieked.

Another window. "Is she in his LAP?"

Blair buried her burning face in his neck. Daemus laughed into her hair, completely unrepentant.

"Morning," he called up.

Three windows slammed shut at once.

* * *

Jasper was already at Desk 3 when she reached the exam hall.

Desk 1 was empty.

Jasper was turning a card over in his fingers. He waited until she sat down. Then he laid it on her desk with one fingertip, like a man placing a bet.

"For you, sweetheart."

Blair didn’t touch it. She could read it from where she sat. The handwriting was beautiful.

Friday. Nine o’clock. Wear something pretty.

Underneath, smaller: Leave the dog at home.

"I can’t," she whispered to the card.

"You haven’t heard who else is coming." Jasper propped his chin on his hand. His blue eyes drifted to her collar, where her fingers had gone again without her realizing it. He smiled. "You keep touching your neck." He smirked suggestively, "Hot night with the wolf?"

Blair took her hand away and said nothing at all.

She let him think it.

A shadow fell across her desk.

Killian had come in without a sound. He stood in the aisle beside her, silver hair immaculate, looking down. Not at her. At the card.

His tongue flicked out once.

He picked it up between two fingers, read it, and slid it into the inside pocket of his jacket.

"That was hers," Jasper said pleasantly.

"Too bad," Killian said, "Pets don’t accept invitations."

He sat down at Desk 1 and uncapped his pen.

Jasper rolled his eyes, flashing the crowned prince an annoyed look behind the small smile still on his lips. Blair stared at her blank paper. Her heart was doing something strange.

The Owl proctor swept in and turned the hourglass.

For three hours, nobody spoke. Killian didn’t look at her once. Once, she caught herself watching the line of his jaw instead of her paper. She wrote the next answer so hard her pencil snapped.

Killian finished first, as always. He capped his pen, rose, and left without a glance. The card went with him.

The moment the door shut, Jasper leaned across the aisle.

"He can keep the card," he murmured, under the scratch of pens. "I know where you sleep."

Blair’s pencil stopped.

"And you’ll come," Jasper went on, "because an old friend of yours will be there. Short. Sweaty hands. Talks far too much."

Blair didn’t pick up at first.

"Caleb has been asking about you," Jasper said, sweet as sugar. "He’d love to see you again before..."

He tilted his head, considering.

"Well," he said. "Before."