Page 35 of Revere
And then it’s just me and the source of my obsession—the girl who broke all my rules the second she fell into my lap—alone.
“I didn’t realize you were in a meeting.” A beautiful flare of jealousy ignites in her wild, golden eyes.
“We were done.” I tilt my head, assessing her. “Can I help you with something?”
I love that my question brightens her cheeks. A rosy blush crawls up her neck. Resistant as she can be, her body responds in subtle ways to everything, and I pay attention. I’d like to strip her down to nothing and see what else I can get.
“I want to talk about my grade on the criminal profiling assignment.” Her spine straightens.
“You don’t agree with it?”
“No.” Her shoulders pull back. “I spent three days researching.”
“Research isn’t everything.” My fingers thrum on the arm of my chair, and her eyes drop to the movement. “Not all answers can be found between the pages of a book.”
“Research implies gathering information.”
“Gathering. Analyzing.Interpreting.” My focus stays trained on her. “Anyone can recite back to me what they read. I want to knowyourthoughts. Criminal psychology isn’t as simple asfitting a criminal into a pre-formed mold. You have to identify what makes them unique. What sets them apart. The best criminal psychologists aren’t just smart, they’re creative.”
“Now you’re saying I’m unoriginal.”
“I’m saying your paper pales in comparison to what you’re capable of.”
She swallows, and I grip the arms of my chair so I don’t cross the room and wrap my fingers around her perfect neck.
Patience is innocent. Fragile.
She really should stop putting herself in my path.
“Why do you doubt yourself?” I ask, brushing that thought aside.
Her golden eyes narrow. “I don’t.”
“You want people to think you don’t, but you do. It holds you back.”
“I have straight A’s.”
“At Briar Academy.” My jaw ticks just thinking about that place. “Your teachers there don’t expect enough out of you.”
Patience huffs. Her annoyance flares to the surface.
“My comment irritates you?”
“You irritate me.” Her eyes widen as the words slip out, like she just realized what she said and who she is talking to, but she doesn’t take it back. “Why did you even let me into this program if you clearly don’t think I’m good enough?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You might as well have.”
“Patience.” Her name feels so good on my tongue. Her reaction to me saying it is even better. Her shoulders relax, and she practically melts. “The question isn’t why I let you into the program, it’s why you came here at all. Because I already know you’re good enough, but you don’t, and that will be your limit every time if you don’t break through it.”
She blinks.
Doubt swims in her eyes.
Vulnerability she hasn’t shown since the plane floods her gaze.
“I don’t know what you’re holding on to or what holds you back.” Orwhy I carewhen that wasn’t why I brought her to LA in the first place. “But if you want more, you’re going to have to let down your defenses.”
