Page 146 of Dance of Madness

I exhale and look up, my blue eyes igniting as they gaze into his green ones.

“I…like you,” I blurt. “Like, a lot. And I know that’s not necessarily what thisis, or…” I try again, my heart pounding in my chest. “I mean, I know we never defined what this is between us. But I think this might help us do that.”

I tentatively push the wrapped book across the table.

Nero’s brow furrows. There’s a tightness in his mouth, and I suddenly realize he’s barely said a dozen words to me since I walked in. But he pulls the present to him, then hooks a finger under the edge of the wrapping paper.

“You can open it now.”

He barely nods as his hand jerks, ripping the paper off as he turns the book over in his hands.

His whole body stiffens. His shoulders clench under the linen of his suit, and I watch that vein in his neck start to pulse wildly. His eyes go steely and dark, and his jaw is so tense it almost vibrates.

He doesn’t say a word, but it’s clear he knowsexactlywhat he’s holding in his hands. That alone has my pulse skyrocketing as warm excitement bubbles and dances inside of me.

“I think you should open it,” I say quietly. "I wrote something inside."

He opens the front cover, and his eyes land on the inscription:

I know it was you.

“I know it was you.”

The words rumble darkly from his lips as he reads the words aloud. His whole face is tight, his eyes stabbing into the page.

“I know it was you…” he says again, taking a slow, deep breath.

My own breath is still held. I’m still waiting for that “ah-ha!” moment where he looks up at me with a big smile and a burst of realization in his eyes. Where he sweeps aside the table, captures me in his arms, and seals his lips to mine. Where he tells me healways wanted it to be me, and then kisses me, and holds me forever.

But none of that happens.

He stays frozen, staring at the book in his hands. Jaw tight. Eyes steely.

“I…” I swallow nervously, beyond confused.

Torn.

Hurt.

“Nero, I?—”

He stands abruptly from the table, drawing up to his full height. Finally—finally—his eyes meet mine again.

But they're hard. Unreadable. Cold.

What the fuck.

He slowly walks around the table toward me. I lift my chin, my heart racing, waiting for him to stop with this cold act and scoop me into his arms.

He slowly keeps walking, until he's right behind me. Then he pauses.

My heart hammers in my chest. My throat goes dry. I gasp quietly as his hand suddenly slides around my neck, wrapping around my throat from behind.

Oh God, he’s going to kiss me.

Any second now, he’s going to twist my hair in a fist in that way that drives me wild, turn my head, and kiss me until I can’t breathe.

His hand tightens.

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