Page 44 of Fragments
Ren’s vibrant blue eyes shimmer at me. “Yea,” he says softly. “Never better.”
I cock a brow at him, and he grins. “You look like shit.”
“You’re looking at me,” he hums. “I call that a win.”
Rolling my eyes, I shove down the way my mouth wants to smile. “What happened to you yesterday? What the hell was that with Dash?”
“He was defending you.” His head slants. “It was cute. I think he likes you.”
“He’s myfriend,” I tell him for the tenth time. “Are you saying you let him kick the shit out of you because he wasdefendingme?”
“I deserved it,” he sighs and shrugs. “I’d do the same thing… if someone was fucking with you. I’ve done it before.”
“That makes no sense,” I grumble. “Youwere the one fucking with me. You could just act normal and not do that.”
“I don’t do normal…” he whispers. “You know that.”
“Yea, no shit.”
“And I wasn’treallyfucking with you, Lex.” He eases in closer to the bars between us. “I think you know that, too.”
There’s honesty in his words… At least, I think there is.It’s so hard to tell.
“You’re a head case and a half,” I breathe, exhausted already from a two-second conversation with him. But for some reason, it just feels… necessary. I don’t know where this bullshit draw comes from, keeping me attached to his crazy. But it seems way too strong to sever. “That nutjob laughing like a madman on the floor… That was the real you, Ren. And it’s fucking terrifying.”
He rests his head on one of the bars, eyes falling to my mouth. “You don’t like it?”
My stomach twists, and I swallow hard. “Why would I…?”
“Dunno…” he breathes, lifting his fingers to trace mine. “Ilike stuff that hurts.”
“Yea, well… Idon’t.” My voice comes out raspier than I want it to, making my words unconvincing.
“Are you lying to me, Lexington?” His gaze is heavy, smothering me while his finger grazes mine slowly.
And I barely even notice how close we are to each other, with only some steel bars keeping us apart. Ren’s hand covers mine where I’m holding the metal, and I want to pull away. Iwantto, I know I do…
But I can’t. My body won’t move.
“I’m not the liar, Ren,” I whisper, heat rushing up my neck at his proximity and the intensity in his eyes, bluer than the sky on a perfect California day.
He makes menervous. He always has, and I’ve never been able to understand why.
“You lie all the time.” He smirks, tugging his lower lip with his teeth. Then he winces, clearly having forgot about the cut.
Before I can even stop myself, my fingers lift, sneaking between the bars to gently brush the cut on his mouth. As soon as it happens, his lashes flutter, and he hums out a pleading sound. It hits me hard in the junk.
He’s soneedyfor touch.
Mine?
No… Everyone’s. It’s not specific to me.
“It hurts…” I shiver out the words, meant to be a question, though it doesn’t come out that way.
His head does a little shake. “You were worried about me…”
Same thing. Not a question. A statement. A soft, eager one, but still. He’s not asking.
