Page 67 of Tell Me Why
“I almost died yesterday,” I remind him for the trillionth time.
There’s a softness in his eyes I’ve never seen before, like me almost dying actually had some kind of effect on him. Who would have known the devilactuallyhas feelings?
“I know,” is all he says, but his tone is strained, heavy.
Sucking in a breath, he inches forward, and presses a chaste kiss against my lips. Tingles sweep through my veins, and I lean into him, into the kiss. But the spell is broken when his phone dings and he pulls back.
“I’ve gotta go,” he says reluctantly. “I’ll catch up with you after my meeting.”
My tongue slides over my bottom lip, and I nod once. “Sure.”
When I get up to his room, I shut the door behind me and lean against it, heart pounding. What the hell just happened? Such a simple kiss shouldn’t have this kind of effect on me, and yet, I’m spiraling. That look in his eyes when I mentioned almost dying—it was genuine pain, like I fucking matter to him.
How did we get here? One minute we are ready to tear each other to pieces,thenwe’re fucking, andnow…I release a sigh. Now, I have no idea what’s happening. All I know is that the idea of going back to my pre-Christian existence feels unbelievably depressing.
God, I’msoconfused.
Tears prickle behind my eyelids. This is all too much. Just a few short weeks ago, all I wanted was go to school and mind my own damn business. And yet, somehow, I’ve managed to do the exact opposite. Now, I’m wrapped up with the most dangerous guy on campus, and what’s worse, the idea of walking away from him makes my stomach knot up.
Get it together, Eve.
With a deep breath, I force all thoughts of Christian out of my head. I need to focus on why I came to Rush House in the first place. And once I’ve gotten what I came for…well, then I can sort through my fucked-up feelings for Christian.
Eye on the prize.
Eye. On. The. Prize.
The smell of medical-grade disinfectant clings to my skin, so I lock the bedroom door and head straight to the bathroom, cranking the shower as hot as I can stand it. Under the steaming water, I scrub my skin, and for the first time in a while, the tension in my muscles melts away, and I start to relax…
Well, until I step out of the shower, dry off, and then realize my duffel bag is missing. The muscles in my shoulders tense right back up as I search. Where did I see it last? I remember dumping the contents all over the floor yesterday, but all that is gone now. Someone must have cleaned it all up. Christian, maybe?
After looking around, I find my empty duffel bag in the closet, my clothes neatly folded or hung up beside Christian’s on the rack. But it’s not my clothes I’m worried about…
Heart in my throat, I reach down and tear the bag open, looking for the one thing I actually give a shit about in this entire world—the little box my mom gave me before she died. But my duffel bag is completely empty.
Where’s the box?
With a towel wrapped around me, I search the large closet, ripping drawers open, looking under stacks of T-shirts, when out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of red and green Christmas wrapping paper.
On a shelf, sitting beside a display of expensive watches, is my mom’s gift. I pick it up and inspect it. It’s undamaged, thank God. The tape has come loose on one end, but that probably happened when I was frantically looking for my EpiPen.
With a sigh of relief, I place the box back on the shelf and finish getting ready.
Once I’m dressed, I pause and glance at the ornate fireplace across the room. Something tugs at my mind—are the keys still there? I move toward it and press the hidden panel, which immediately gives way. The two keys sit undisturbed inside the dusty cubby hole. Thank God. I reach in and pick them up, and slide them into my jean pocket. I still need to figure out which building they belong to.
But as I walk to class with one of the security guys trailing behind me, I’m not thinking about the keys like I should. My mind circles on that kiss with Christian at the foot of the stairs. There was something different about it, like a missing piece of a puzzle sliding into place inside me. It felt so amazingly right, and if I’m being honest, that feeling terrifies me more than almost dying…
CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
Christian
Goddamn.What the actual fuck was that kiss with Eve just now? I’d leaned in on instinct, hungry as always to taste her, but when our lips met, it felt like a bomb detonating inside me, throwing me off balance and laying waste to any sense of who I was before Eve waltzed into my life.
I’m still reeling from it as I walk down the hallway, running my hand through my hair like that might calm the chaos in my head. Every time I think I’ve got this shit with Eve figured out, I’m?—
“Hey, Cash is in the dining room. Did you know he was coming?”
Jackson’s voice jerks me back to reality. Turning, I find him standing there, arms crossed, looking annoyed.
