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“Say ‘provoking’ again. Your mouth looks provocative when you do.”
“You’re getting cocky. I like that, Angel.”
“Scared, Angel?”
“Killer skirt. Deadly legs.”
“He dragged me out the front door and shoved me against the house.” “But he was drunk, right?” “Does it matter?” I snapped.
“I get that you’re angry—,” said Patch. “I am ripped apart!” I shouted.
“Keep in mind that people change, but the past doesn’t.”
“You possess other people’s . . . bodies.” He accepted the statement with a nod. “Do you want to possess my body?” “I want to do a lot of things to your body, but that’s not one of them.”
“You want me to come clean, I will. I’ll tell you everything. Who I am and what I’ve done. Every last detail. I’ll dig it all up, but you have to ask. You have to want it. You can see who I was, or you can see who I am now. I’m not good,” he said, piercing me with eyes that absorbed all light but reflected none, “but I was worse.”
“Let’s be honest, Nora. You’ve got it bad for me.” His eyes held a lot of depth. “And I’ve got it bad for you.” He leaned into me and put his mouth on mine. A lot of him was on me, actually. We touched base at several strategic locations down our bodies, and it took all my willpower to break away.
