The Elite (The Selection #2)

by Kiera Cass

“What else are you terrible at?” I asked, running my hand across his starched shirt. Encouraged by the touch, Maxon drew circles on my shoulder with the hand he had wrapped behind my back. “Why would you want to know that?” he asked in mock irritation. “Because I still know so little about you. And you seem perfect all the time. It’s nice to have proof you’re not.” He propped himself up on an elbow, focusing on my face. “You know I’m not.” “Pretty close,” I countered. Little flickers of touch ran between us. Knees, arms, fingers. He shook his head, a small smile on his face. “Okay, then. I can’t plan wars. I’m rotten at it. And I’m guessing I’d be a terrible cook. I’ve never tried, so—” “Never?” “You might have noticed the teams of people keeping you up to your neck in pastries? They happen to feed me as well.” I giggled. I helped cook practically every meal at home. “More,” I demanded. “What else are you bad at?” He held me close, his brown eyes bright with a secret. “Recently I’ve discovered this one thing ….” “Tell.” “It turns out I’m absolutely terrible at staying away from you. It’s a very serious problem.” I smiled. “Have you really tried?” He pretended to think about it. “Well, no. And don’t expect me to start.”

Lol