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“I assumed my growing interest was because I’d never had a friend before,” he confesses. “It wasn’t until this morning that I realized I’d misread our situation entirely.”
“It was that pathetic display at your locker.” His face suddenly darkens, every ounce of softness disappearing. “You pulled out that pitiful little rose, and you had all this stunned excitement on your face. For him. For someone else.” My breath catches. “Adrian –” His jaw ticks. “It was fucking revolting.”
And I realized you were right. I haven’t seen you very clearly, but I do now. I see you – us – for what we are.”
“And what are we?” He can’t be saying what I think he’s trying to say. He’s not. He can’t. His gaze keeps me rooted to the spot. “I like you, sweetheart. I like you a lot. We’re not friends. We’re going to be more than that.”
“You say that like you’ve already decided it.”
“Because I have. I like you. I’m interested in you, and I want to ex...
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“This morning, when you looked at him, it took every ounce of my self-control to avoid walking over to Freddy Rook and bashing his skull in till he was no longer worth looking at. You do this to me.”
“Well, I never said I was a saint. Or above blackmail. You should get used to it.” “Should I?” “Yes.” There’s no room for argument in his tone. “You’re mine now.”
“I can’t feed you a line. I can’t curate a version of myself that you’ll respond to because you already know exactly who I am. It’s why I’m so drawn to you. “And now I don’t know what to do with all these…” He shakes his head. “Feelings. You say that I’m standing on solid ground, but you’ve stolen every bit of it right out from underneath me. You have a hold on me that nobody ever has.
