Opposition
Page 96I glanced over my shoulder.
Daemon rested against the headboard of the king-size bed—a bed big enough for half of my economics class. His arms were folded behind his head, one leg bent at the knee. No shirt. Just faded denim jeans, and I knew for a fact that that seriously was all. The corded biceps drew my gaze and I soaked in the naturally tan expanse of his chest and the tightly rolled muscles of his stomach. To this day, I had no idea how he got that dip on either side of his hips. Like what kind of sit-ups does one do for that? The only time I sat up from lying down was to get out of bed.
Or get some chocolate.
Or a book.
But yeah, Daemon Black . . . well, he totally made it bearable.
He winked one green eye, and somehow, when most guys would look all kinds of douchey, he made it look sexy. “Like what you see?”
I didn’t even dignify that with a response. Instead I faced my computer, my fingers hovering over the keys—the enter button to be exact. My heart was racing like it had been when Daemon and I had submitted our applications, the day the University of Colorado had finally opened their enrollment and resumed classes.
That had been major.
Still felt epic.
We were college students—Daemon and me.
Neither of us had declared a major yet. We had no idea what we wanted to do, but that was okay. We’d figure it out eventually.
“Just do it,” Daemon said, his voice closer than I expected, causing me to jump. His chuckle stirred loose strands of hair around my temple. He tugged my ponytail, tipping my head back. He kissed me softly, almost making me forget what I was doing, and when he lifted his head, he grinned down at me from behind. “You’ve been obsessing over it for weeks. Do it.”
I bit my lip, still tasting him.
“Come on.” He picked up a pen off my desk and tapped the tip of my nose with it. I swatted at his hand, and he laughed. “Your inner book nerd will have a book nerd orgasm.”
My brows knitted. “That just . . . sounds weird and kind of gross.”
He snickered as he let go of my ponytail. His gaze landed on the screen of my brand-spanking-new MacBook that I’d protect with my last dying breath. I’d even named her Brittany, because she had to be a girl, and she was shiny and red and perfect and she might not have ten toes and ten fingers, but she was my baby.
And I loved her.
I hit publish and then sucked in a sharp breath as everything on the screen refreshed into a brand-spanking-new blog.
“Katy’s Krazy Book Obsession is alive once more.” He kissed my cheek. “You nerd.”
I laughed as some kind of weight drifted off my shoulders. “I think the pink and brown go well together.”
He grunted some sort of reply as my smile grew into creepy proportions. I almost clapped. And I almost got up, knocked Daemon over, and raced into our extra bedroom, where all my books—all my pretties—were.
After everything had gone down, Daemon and I had traveled back to my house. Archer had shown up with Dee, and the four of us had packed up all of the stuff. We’d managed to get my books shipped to Colorado once we decided that was where we were going to try to put down some roots.
The blog was a big deal to me. It wasn’t just pretending everything was fine or grasping at normalcy, but grabbing it by the ears and making it my bitch. Blogging about books was something I’d loved to do and missed fiercely. Books were a part of me that I was going to get back, starting now.
“Hey.” Daemon pointed at the screen. “You already have a follower.” A dark eyebrow cocked up. “The YA Sisterhood? Hmm. That kind of sounds like fun.”
I rolled my eyes so far it actually hurt. “You’re so perverted.”
As Daemon backed off and I pushed out of the chair, my gaze danced over the stack of magazines piled on the corner of the desk, wedding gown after wedding gown staring back at me, stealing my breath a little.
My gaze dropped to my left hand.
The shimmery diamond on my ring finger drew some major attention. Some days when the light hit it the right way, it would literally dazzle me into staring at it for several minutes.
We were going to get married, the whole deal—white gown, ceremony, bridesmaids and groomsmen, reception, DJ, and most importantly, the wedding cake. For real this time, under our legit names. The fake IDs were left behind, though I kind of missed them a little.
Kaidan Rowe was a Hottie McHotters.
But General Eaton had kept his promise. The ARP—Alien Registration Program—did not affect us, and as of today, no one had recognized either of us from the brief time the Vegas videos had been up on the internet.
The ARP was General Eaton’s and the government’s answer to weeding out any Luxen and Origins who may be flying the unfriendly skies. All Luxen, hybrids, Origins, and Arum were required to register—all except us. Some days I wondered if that would change, and it always caused knots of unease to form in my belly.
Now that the alien was really out of the bag, and with all the terrible things the invading Luxen had done, aliens weren’t all that . . . accepted in communities. Every day, there was something in the news about an attack on a suspected Luxen or colony. Many innocent Luxen had been injured in the past months and some . . . they’d been killed just because of what they were.