Page 58 of Fault Line

“Well, don’t bother,” she says, bitterness seeping into her voice. “Let’s not pretend like we’re anything more than what we actually are.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I’m left reeling. I’m not sure why it’s her first instinct to lash out at me, to always expect the fucking worst.

Honestly, I thought that we were making progress. That we were moving toward something more meaningful—especially after I spent the night inside of her—but it seems like she’s content to keep me at arm’s length.

“Right, I get it,” I say, despite my irritation.

“Great,” she says and then turns on her heel to leave.

Jesus Christ. I don’t understand why she’s running in the other direction, why she won’t let me be there for her even in the smallest of ways. But then it dawns on me.

“Are you just being rude because you don’t feel good, and it’s making you cranky?” I ask, effectively stopping her in her tracks. “Or is this your half-assed attempt to push me away?”

“Excuse me?”

I raise a challenging brow. “You heard me.”

“Look, I don’t know what you think—”

“What I think is that you’re incredibly sick right now. Your immune system’s shit because you never fucking sleep properly. I also think that you got even worse sleep this past weekend since I wasn’t around. But beyond that, I think you realized that you actually missed me for once, and you really fucking hate it.”

She gulps low in her throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You do,” I insist.

“No.”

“Yes.” I lean closer, lowering my voice. “You wish you had me around—to fuck, to fight with, maybe more—and that bothers you.”

She reels back. “The things you dream up in that head of yours, Beck.”

“It’s okay, Kaia, because I’m onto you.” I give her a lopsided smile. “Now, get your ass home and rest. Or the next time you come calling for me, I won’t answer.”

She lets out a humorless snort. “So, you’re serving ultimatums now?”

“If it gets you off this campus and into your bed, then yeah, I am.”

“Please, you couldn’t resist me even if you tried.” She breaks out into a horrible coughing fit, her body convulsing with the force of it. Hunching over, she brings a hand up to cover her mouth as tears gather at the corners of her red-rimmed eyes.

“Right now?” I raise a skeptical brow, eyeing her up and down. “I think I could manage it just fine.”

She folds her arms across her chest, indignant. “Don’t make fun of me when I’m sick.”

“Come on, Karras. Go home,” I plead, making one last attempt to cajole her. “I’ll be by this afternoon with some soup and shit.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“What are you gonna do about it, Sneezy? Fight me?”

“I hate you,” she scoffs, but her eyes betray the truth.

“No,” I say with a grin. “You don’t.”

* * *

After finishingmy midday lift and afternoon classes, I rush to the store to grab some things for Kaia. I’m worried about her being sick. I know how much it sucks to feel like shit, and I also know that if it were left up to her, she’d never actually take the rest she needs.

When she opens the door, she’s wrapped up in a cozy blanket, her nose all sniffly and red.

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