Ethereal Knights (2 page)

The girl with the crystal eyes spears me with a look that says,
I eat scum like you for breakfast
. Not that I’d stop her. Hell—I’d encourage it.

My lips curve at the thought of her teeth digging into me. Just the idea of those mouthwatering lips melting over my skin like sugar sets off an entire litany of X-rated thoughts, far too fantastic for this early in the afternoon.

Brielle leads her toward a table, and I intersect before they take a seat.

“Bree.” I grin over at the girl standing by her side.

Brielle rolls her eyes. She knows damn well it’s not her attention I’m after.

Gage pops up next to me, expanding his chest like a gorilla in heat. I can tell he’s interested, but he’d better back off. Prepubescent boys need not apply. This one’s all mine.

“Guys, this is Skyla.” Brielle ticks into the girl with a shy smile. “She’s moving into Chloe’s old house. Skyla, these are the knuckleheads I work with, Logan and Gage.” She waves her hands over Gage and me as if she were gifting us to her—another thing I wouldn’t mind, with the exception of Gage. Then again, the way he bats off girls waiting for “the one” to show up makes me wonder if he’s switched teams.

Brielle laughs. She might very well be going on about something, but all I hear is the equivalent of a power mower. I’m too damn busy enjoying the
Skyla
view. I’ve never seen lips that full. The small dimple hedging in her cheek has me ticking to life in my boxers.

“Skyla?” Gage takes up her hand and pants into her like a puppy. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was trying to entrance her with his soot-covered hair, those electric blue eyes.

Crap.

“Gage Oliver.” He leans in, never dipping his gaze to her cleavage like a good little Boy Scout.

He’s got self-control, I’ll give him that.

Skyla
—I want to say it—feel it on my tongue. I’m half afraid I’ll shout it out in an uncalled-for fit of delirium. Someone like Skyla has the power to make my voice break like a twelve-year-old. I’m pretty sure I’d let her break me anytime she wanted in much more creative ways than that. The nightly possibilities I’m going to have with this one are staggering. I think I’ve just met the star of all my best future wet dreams, live and in-person.

But for now, it’s time to stomp Gage and his affections out like an unwanted kitchen fire.

“You have a very unique name. It’s beautiful,” I say, carefully plucking Gage off and replacing his death grip with mine. Reading her thoughts is just a pleasant Celestra side effect of holding her hand. Besides, it’s painfully obvious to everyone in the room that Gage is all worked up over our new friend here. I’ll have to push him into the pool later to cool him off—maybe hold him under a few extra seconds until all thoughts of hitting on my future girlfriend fully dissipate.

She digs a half-smile into her cheek, and my stomach twists like a tangle of bungee cords.

I bring her hand to my lips, press her warm flesh to my mouth, and linger in a moment of sexual euphoria like I’ve never experienced before.

“
Logan
Oliver.” I over-annunciate to let both her and Gage know I’m the only Oliver she needs to direct her interests toward.

“Oh, so you’re brothers?” She bites the inside of her lip and pivots, looking cute as hell in the process. Skyla manages to look smolderingly sexy and adorable all in a single bound. 

They look nothing alike,
she thinks to herself while inspecting the two of us.
Or maybe they’re stepbrothers? Mothers marrying morons is on the rise.

I give a private smile.

I take it she doesn’t like the moron her mother married.

Skyla turns into me with a look that renders me shaking like a virgin on prom night, and I swallow hard.

“Cousins.” I nod over toward Gage. “I live with them.” I lay my other hand over hers in the event she’s willing to divulge a full evaluation of the two of us. “My parents are both deceased.”

Shit. Did I just go there? I’m pretty sure there’s no quicker way to kill a conversation than dragging in your dead relatives.

Skyla’s cheeks flare up like a pair of ripe plums.

Perfect. She’ll be bolting for the exit in less than five.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She steps in with her eyes hooded low, the affect melting from her face. “My dad died, too.”

Fuck.

I place her hand gently by her side and take her in with this newfound sadness exuding from her—from both of us. She’s not just a body, not just a beautiful face—she’s a person who loved someone and lost them, just like I did.

My heart breaks for her. There’s no greater pain than losing a parent. I want to let her know I’m here for her, that I’d gladly shield her from this horrible world. Maybe I can help her heal—maybe she can help heal me. I don’t remember my parents, but there’s a hole in my heart they left behind and innately I know the world spins a little different because they’re no longer in it.

“Sorry,” I whisper, absorbing her with wonder before she decides to bolt for safety. I want to memorize her, etch her into my grey matter and save her for later. It takes all of my self-control not to wrap my arms around her and console her the way I want to.

I took a perfectly good moment and ruined it. I’ll be the downer she does her best to avoid. Can’t run a business, can’t get the girl. I’m on a real fucking streak.

I walk us over to a table with Gage plodding alongside us like an unwanted five-year-old. I’ll have to manufacture a task for him if I catch him showing another ounce of interest. The last thing Gage and I need is to be competing for the same girl.

Gage swipes the seat across from Skyla and leans in—turns on those baby blues in an effort to jockey for her attention.

Guess Gage just put himself in the game, which is completely fine because everybody needs to learn to deal with a broken heart at some point in the their lives. Too bad it’s with Skyla. Once we’re together, there’s going to be weirdness between Gage and me. 

I offer a complacent smile in his direction, encouraging him to go on with his suicide plunge.

“So you’re a junior?” He knocks on the table like he’s demanding an answer.

I’ll have to give him a few pointers later on how to get the girl—all bad and fruitless, of course—like write her a poem. Nothing says stalker like poetry.

“Yup.” She bites down on those perfect lips, and my insides explode. “And you guys?”

“We’re
all
juniors!” Brielle shakes her as if we’ve won the scholastic lottery. I swear that girl is on some wild shit half the time. Nobody walks around that psyched up to be alive twenty-four seven.

Skyla looks over at Bree like she’s lost it. She glares into her with an unnatural curiosity as if she were reading her mind.

“So tell me about Chloe.” Skyla takes us all in. It comes out interrogating— surprises the hell out me, and for a minute, I wonder if she’s the second coming. Although, in this altered state, I think I could almost forgive Chloe of all her trespasses.

A surge of anger courses through me. Just the thought of Chloe Bishop makes my blood boil. That was the first and last time I’ll ever be used by anybody.  

I glance back over at Skyla.

Although, I’d make an exception for her if I had to.

I’d break every rule in the book for her.

Gage

The frozen night air hits me with a blast as I exit the bowling alley.

I drag myself through the dark parking lot after a long day working with my “boss,” whose head is swollen to the size of a watermelon from the special attention he scored from Brielle’s new friend, Skyla—my Skyla.

The girl from my dreams is here, and I’ve already managed to give Logan all the leeway he needs to have her for himself. Although, that’s not what I remember from the visions. It looks like the powers-that-be left out one seemingly important detail—she wouldn’t be interested in me.

I’m hoping Brielle will bring her around again so I can get to know her better.

A pair of headlights barrel in my direction, and I jump out of the way as a bright red jeep nearly runs me over.

Speaking of the speed demon.

Brielle bounces out of the driver’s side with her hair in a wild shag.

“God, I almost hit you! Sorry—I’m freaking late for my shift!”

“No, its okay. I was just heading back in myself,” I say as my feet move toward the entrance. Change of plans.

“Are you pulling a double?” Her face contorts like she’s in pain.

I am now. “Logan’s short tonight.” Although, not in ego.

We head toward the stone building, and I hold the door open for her.

“You’re such a perfect gentleman, Gage Oliver.” She squeals, breezing past me. “We’re going to have to find you a girl. Someone sweet. Although, I’ll warn you, every girl on the planet has a place in her heart for a bad boy. Maybe we should rough you up a bit first.” She scratches at my chest before dropping her hand just shy of my Levis, and I catch her by the wrist.

“Whoa.” A low, thundering laugh rattles through me.

If anyone specializes in getting down and dirty, it’s Brielle. But I’m not interested in her like that—never was, never will be.

Logan glances up from the counter. “You forget something?” His forehead creases as if my every move were suddenly under scrutiny.

“Nope, just felt like helping out.” I smack him on the shoulder as I move past him. “So, Bree”—I nod over to her—“any chance your friend might pop in later?” Skyla ended up staying for less than twenty minutes this afternoon. She mentioned something about unpacking.

“Maybe.” She shrugs. “No clue. Her parents look a little uptight, so I wouldn’t count on it. Why? You interested?”

“Of course he is.” Logan glances up from the register. It comes out like a dare, like a threat with the intent on providing bodily harm no matter what the answer might be. “Lie, and I’ll dock your pay.”

“So what if I like her? She’s nice.” I try to play it off as a small crowd storms the food line. I glance in the kitchen to make sure the staff has it under control.

“Nice?” Logan digs in with a partial smile. “I’m glad you think my future girlfriend is
nice.
It’d kind of suck not seeing you two get along.” He employs all the sarcasm he can muster. “Soon we’ll be locked at the hips—the lips. Consider yourself warned.” He gives a little wink before heading toward the shoes.

Brielle comes in close. “
His
future girlfriend? I don’t know Gage… Sounds like a war is about erupt.” She gives a wicked smile. “Are you just going to stand around and let him take over like that? I think you should go in for the kill and show him who’s boss. You’ve got hips, Gage. And, God knows every girl on the planet wants to kiss those lips.” She smirks. “Except me. No offense, but you’re practically my brother.”

“Got it.” I hold my gaze steadfast on Logan. “I guess if it’s meant to be with Skyla, no one or their body parts can stand in the way.”

“Mmm,” Brielle moans as Logan flashes those pearly whites at the girls lined up in the queue. “I don’t know. Logan’s got some mighty fine hips. Lots of girls out there would die to grind up against them. You’ve got some stiff competition, buddy.”

I crack a roll of dimes against the counter, and Brielle nearly jumps out of her skin.

“Holy shit, you scared me,” she screeches.

“Sorry,” I say, dumping the change into the register.

“Is that a little displaced anger I’m sensing?” She looks mildly amused with her hand still wrapped around her neck in fear.

“Who’s angry?” Logan pops up and grabs a towel from under the counter.

“No one’s angry,” I grunt.

“You still pining for what’s-her-face?” Logan twitches his nose the way he does when he’s trying to incite me into beating the crap out of him. “What was her name again?” He narrows into me with a crooked grin, hardly able to contain a laugh.

“Skyla Messenger.” Brielle hops up on the counter, gearing up for the show no doubt.

“I knew it was Skyla.” I shoot a look to Logan. “Although, I seriously doubt
you
forgot.”

“Just wanted to see if you were paying attention.” He cuts a steely gaze my way that lets me know we’re walking some invisible line, and I’m about to cross it. “Looks like Gage here has a hard-on the size of the Space Needle, Brielle. Do they make rubbers that big?”

It takes everything in me not to knock him over.

I hate how easy it is for him—see a girl and have her if he wishes. I’m pretty sure that’s not going to happen. I’m pretty sure Skyla is the girl I’ve seen in my dreams, my prophecies, all these months—these years. Someone or something has made it clear as her crystal blue eyes that it’s going to be Skyla and me in the end, and there’s not a damn thing Logan or any part of his body can do to stop it.

I let out a breath as I take him in—his shit-eating grin, his ultra-confidant, cocky attitude—and I make a beeline for the exit. Logan pushed my buttons enough for one night.

“Where you going?” He calls after me.

“To meet a friend.”

Only that friend isn’t human.

2

Logan

My Happily Ever After, My Forever

The next morning, Gage and I head out to practice, and he doesn’t say two words on the way over. It’s like he’s pissed that I even looked at Skyla.

The guy didn’t even blink when Chloe used to throw herself in his face, and now he’s acting like he’s ready to tattoo some girl’s name across his chest as a method to secure her for himself.

Whatever happened to the girl of his psychotic dreams? I’d remind him, but I’m not in the mood to feed his psychosis any more than necessary. I’d hate to be the one to break it to him, but one wet dream does not a Mrs. Right make. Although, in Gage’s case, it probably does.

The fog rolls out across the football field like an invisible marching band as we make play after play enveloped in the thick nectar of ground clouds. The coach calls for a break just as the cheerleaders run onto the green. Gage jogs up beside me, and we stare over at them, hoping to see the long, tanned legs of our favorite L.A. transplant.