Hush Read Free Page B

tell me what’s going on.”
    Rolling his eyes and biting back a smile, Wren pretends to sigh. “If you insist.”
    “God, you’re adorable when you’re happy,” she says.
    “Shut up,” he smiles. “Okay. Try, really, not to be judgmental.”
    “Well that’s a winning start.”
    Wren shrugs and fiddles with the plug in his ear, twisting it. Feeling whimsical that morning, he’d worn plugs he rarely breaks out, the ones shaped like elephants, for good luck. He’s been con­templating going up a size.
    “So…” He takes a breath. “There’s a boy.”
    “Ahhh,” she squeals happily, clapping her hands, “why didn’t you tell me sooner? Oh god, what’s his name? When do I get to meet him? When did you meet him? How—”
    “Whoa, whoa, hold on, Nora, it’s not like that.” He gives her a look. “You know it’s not going to be like that.”
    “Wren—” she says, too sweetly, too concerned. “I know it was hard—”
    “I swear to god,” he jumps in, “if you go there, I am leaving this room. It’s a rule.”
    “Fuck,” she says under her breath, “I hate your rules. Can you just stop with that?”
    “Dislike duly noted,” he responds, his voice rich with sarcasm. “I’ll put that motion before the board.”
    Nora stares at him for so long he becomes a little uncomfort­able. Finally she takes a breath, shaking her head minutely. “So tell me about this boy.”
    Wren closes his eyes. “I think his name is Cam—Profes­sor Gibbs was talking to him after class yesterday and that’s what I think I heard. He’s… beautiful.” Wren shrugs slightly and smiles. “There’s just something there. And I can’t wait for it to happen.”

Chapter Two
    Wren knows that Cam is seeking him; during every class, Wren senses Cam’s desire, the building force of attraction. Wren feels him pulling as soon as he nears the classroom. The feeling is heady, an exhilarating flush that envelops him the moment they connect. Sometimes it’s overwhelming.
    He’ll not deny that one of his favorite aspects of his gifts is that he can gift. As much as he enjoys being pursued, and as much as he enjoys drawing it out, he loves giving those feelings back even more. His power to compel, he knows, is to be used with caution and respect. Many have used this ability in awful ways. Wren was raised to respect it—and also to enjoy it, to use it to compel pleasure, comfort or relaxation in others.
    For every tug of longing and desire he feels from this boy Cam, he’s careful to pull something from him as well: a rise of sensuality, a surge of confidence. Wren wants Cam, wants to take him apart and touch him, have him until they’re both half blind. Wren wants to discover every secret space of Cam’s body, and god does Wren want to make it incredible for him. And he can. Compelling Cam to small bursts of pleasure from across the room leaves Wren on a high that lasts for hours.
    * * *
    “You’re gonna give yourself shin splints or something at this rate, man,” Nate says one day.
    “What do you know about it?” Cam says, laughing and wiping his face with the hem of his shirt. “Have you run even once in your life?”
    “Nope,” Nate says, making the “P” sound pop. “I prefer my low impact but incredibly healthy swim/lift/flex routine.”
    “Flexing as a workout, huh?” Cam scrubs his hands through sweat-soaked hair. He’s gross .
    “Well, not precisely,” Nate says, mischief all over his face. “It’s what the flexing gets me, if you know what I mean.” He waggles his eyebrows and Cam snorts with helpless laughter.
    “You are ridiculous.”
    “And lucky. Or a player. Irresistible.”
    “All right, Casanova, I’m gonna shower. Feel free to flex,” Cam says, then pauses when Nate bursts into laughter, realizing a sec­ond too late what he’s implied. “I take that back; do not flex right now.”
    “I’m not the one who needs it, anyway,” Nate says.
    “What does that mean?” Cam