Page 47 of The Cruelest Kind of Hate
She shakes her head. “He’s never looked that happy to see me. And he’s definitely never brought me a basket of candy.”
He brought me a basket of candy?Is he clinically insane? Wait a second, of course he is. Why am I even asking myself that?
Aeris nudges me with her elbow. “Oh my God. Are you two…?”
“Nope! Definitely not. I honestly don’t know why he’s here. I’ll just go and get him to leave. Yeah, he’s probably here for another dancer,” I prattle, speed-walking straight over to him without giving Aeris a chance to interrogate me further.
The nerve this man has!
Since there are still plenty of onlookers roaming around the studio, I sink my claws into his arm and yank him into a private section of the building—or I guess less of a private section and more of a glorified janitor’s closet. Once the door snicks shut behind us, I tug on the pull chain of the lightbulb, dousing the small space in light.
“What are you doing here?” I hiss, keeping my voice low even with the added privacy of the closed door.
“Don’t sound too happy to see me,” he drawls with that irresistible, rumbling bass that makes me squeeze my legs together.
“You’re just—you—you’re out in the open!” I gesticulate with my arms wildly.
“This is a free country.”
A warning growl ripples in my throat. “Gage…”
He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. I should’ve called ahead of time, but I needed to come see you.”
“Needed?”
“Wanted…badly. Wantedverybadly.”
It used to be so easy to stay mad at him, but now, with hisbig, verdant eyes staring at me like I’m sunshine in a fucking bottle, I can’t. Gage is the least subtle person about his emotions, and if cartoon love hearts could bulge out of his sockets, they would.
A core-melting smile, a poorly hidden blush, body language that’s not only exceedingly close to me but that’s also more than ready to make up for lost time.
I’m not breaking the law by talking to him. I’m not going to be executed for fraternizing with the enemy. I’m just afraid that if someone sees us together, speculation about Gage’s love life is going to happen—thank you, stupid superstar status of his. And if people start spreading rumors, it’ll push him to want something real even more.
It’s not just about focusing my efforts elsewhere, it’s also about fearing the inevitable. When things get real, that’s when loss does too. I’ve dealt with enough loss for a lifetime.
I don’t want to break his heart. I don’t want him to breakmyheart.
I don’t mean to sigh so exasperatedly, but it kind of just trickles out of my mouth.
“Hey.” He sweeps me into his big arms, dispelling the racing thoughts from my mind with each inhalation of his forest-thick cologne, and the warmth radiating off his body cocoons me tighter than any fleece blanket I own. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to complicate things. I just…wanted to ask you something.”
“You don’t have to be sorry. I’m the one who overreacted,” I explain, shivering when I feel him press his lips to the crown of my head. I want to bask in that feeling—and I can’t let myself.
I pull away abruptly, masquerading my disappointment with a half-smile. “Gage, you know we’re just friends, right? Friends with benefits. That’s all.”
There’s a minuscule shift in his expression, but it’s so well-modulated that I can’t place the meaning behind it. “Right. No, Iknow,” he says, turning his attention to the full basket still dangling from his arm. “I wanted to give you something. And ask you something.”
He presents the basket in front of me, and maybe I’m the one who needs a better prescription, because it’s not just candy that sits in the faux black fur. There’s a box of ghost Peeps, a tube of candy corn, pumpkin Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, a cauldron-shaped mug, an autumn-scented candle, a plush bat, and fuzzy, skull-printed socks.
With a staggered breath, a strange feeling manifests in my gut. “Gage, what is all of this?”
“It’s a boo basket,” he answers matter-of-factly.
“A what?”
“You know, a boo basket. It’s, uh, you put things in it and give it to…your friends.”
I squint my eyes at him. “Uh-huh. Really?”
