Page 79 of Playing With Danger

And I didn’t give the first fuck I was being insensitive and judgmental.

“Honey?” I prompted.

“Close the window.”

I did as he said but not before taking in a huge lungful of outside air before I did.

Without saying goodbye to his father or wasting any time, he made his way to me, tagged my hand, and pulled me out of that hellhole of torture.

Valentine took care of the front door. I waited by the Rover and waited until he rounded the hood. But before he opened his door I announced, “If you think for one second you’re taking me home and dropping me at my apartment you’re mistaken.”

“Soph—”

“I’m going to your house, Valentine.”

He clenched his jaw so hard I hoped he didn’t crack a tooth.

The lock bleeped.

“Fuck.”

An hour ago his frustrated growl would’ve made me back off. I would’ve been worried I’d pushed too hard or too fast for him to talk about things that were buried under layers of pain.

Now?

I was scared. I knew if I didn’t tear this open right now while I had my shot, he’d sew it back shut and lock me out.

Then I’d lose him forever.

I’ll make it worth it.

19

Angry didn’t touch the emotion I was feeling.

Hell, I wasn’t even feeling it. I was breathing fire. Every inhale burned. Every exhale felt like it scorched my throat.

She saw.

Sophie fucking saw. She saw him, the house, my neglect.

Fuck.

The drive home from my father’s was silent.

I was positive that was a mistake, an even bigger one than not taking her back to her apartment and dropping her off. I needed to end this. And now I was going to have to do it at my house where she had no car instead of at hers where I could leave right after.

As soon as I shut the front door I ripped my own heart out, doing it fast.

“This needs to end.”

Sophie tossed her purse on the coffee table next to her laptop and slowly turned to face me.

“Why?”

“You’re not seriously asking me that after what you saw.”

Since the very first day in the grocery store she couldn’t hide her thoughts from me. Not the immediate attraction, not her interest, not her embarrassment that bled into the shyness that had made her flee. And every time she’d looked at me since then her eyes spoke before she did. And right then they were flashing with anger.

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