Crown of Steel (A Dark College Romance (MM)) by Lola Malone

Author:Lola Malone [Malone, Lola]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-01-25T00:00:00+00:00

13

ARTHUR

It feels as though the air has been sucked from the atmosphere by my question. Something shifts in Régis’ demeanor with a flick, and I blink as I try to understand what’s going on. My little stepbrother looks exquisitely freaked out as he turns to face me.

“No?” He squeaks. His earlier bravado has disappeared, though parts of it are still lingering. Pride and irritation battle with that usual skittishness, and it's fucking alluring. His big, blue gaze is wide with something devilishly close to fear, and it makes my heart thump a little faster. Did I just do that? It makes me feel incredibly greedy and indecisive. Because my body craves for nervous Régis, my mind wants to provoke snarky Régis and then there is this other part of him, the one he accidentally revealed, that seems to have captured both my mind and soul. It’s a sad, lonely Régis, I think. The part of him he’s always so desperate to protect from the world.

Thoughts lock inside my chest. Without a chessboard to hide our play behind, our conversation won’t get far. Shouldn't get fucking far. Because things have gotten far enough. But catching sight of those eyes, all red and puffy? Yeah, I didn’t like that.

What made you cry?

There’s no way he’s going to unmask that to me without being challenged. And I shouldn’t really, but as those thoughts swirl through my mind, my resistance crumbles away, bit by bit. I could poke him just a little, just enough to inflame his exasperation. Then strike.

Curling my lips into that smirk I know he hates so much, I mumble, “Well, I think you just did. You tried to screw me over in front of Dad. Sit.” My gaze is tied onto his, battling to catch any flicker of emotion that flutters through those beautiful eyes. Yeah, he’s definitely getting annoyed.

Régis eyes the padded velvet seat of the couch, and I expect him to make a show out of rejecting me. He doesn’t. He does, however, choose to take a seat across from me on the other couch like the stubborn little fuck he is. Ignoring that detail, I place my glass on the table, then place my elbows on my knees and bend a little forward, cupping my chin in my folded hands. We stare at each other for a moment, silence intermingling with the crackling of the fire.

“Now, tell me, what are you playing at?” I growl.

What made you cry?

“Nothing,” he snarls. “I’m not playing at anything.”

“Haha, funny.” I fake a bark of laughter, only to shift it back into a deadpan glare. “Are you taking me for a fool?”

His gaze narrows, eyes flaring with rage. “What are you talking about?”

“The prize, Régis. Those fucking qualifications. You knew about the changes, and you hid it from me. Dad didn't say anything, but he must have felt that too. You don’t keep secrets from your family.”

Régis lands a hand through his messy, golden hair, making my regard dip to take in the curve of his long, delicate neck.

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