The Golden Lily (Bloodlines, #2)

by Richelle Mead

And what about Rose? Aren’t you madly in love with her?” Adrian looked way too calm for this situation. “Maybe I was once. But it’s been… what, nearly three months? And honestly, I haven’t thought much about her in a while. Yeah, I’m still hurt and feel kind of used, but… really, she’s not the one I’m always thinking about anymore. I don’t see her face when I go to sleep. I don’t wonder about—” “No!” I backed up even further. “I don’t want to hear this. I’m not going to listen to any more.” With a few swift steps, Adrian stood in front of me again. The wall was only a couple inches behind me, and I had nowhere to go. He made no threatening moves, but he did clasp my hands and hold them to his chest while leaning down to me. “No, you will listen. For once, you’re going to hear something that doesn’t fit into your neat, compartmentalized world of order and logic and reason. Because this isn’t reasonable. If you’re terrified, believe me—this scares the hell out of me, too. You asked about Rose? I tried to be a better person for her—but it was to impress her, to get her to want me. But when I’m around you, I want to be better because… well, because it feels right. Because I want to. You make me want to become something greater than myself. I want to excel. You inspire me in every act, every word, every glance. I look at you, and you’re like… like light made into flesh. I said it on Halloween and meant every word: you are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen walking thi...

ADRIAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!