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There’s something in the way he stares at me, like a starved man who’s contemplating a heinous act. You don’t have to tell me there isn’t one good thought in his head. Red flags are flying all around this guy. But I can’t look away. He captivates me, scares me even and I can kill a man in five seconds flat.
“Bunnies will consume their own under stress,” I say nonchalantly, and the five of them stop walking and look back at me, shocked. Even Bradshaw this time, his eyes filled with fury.
Hatred and desire aren’t so different. Both are an obsessive, all-consuming emotion. It’s a thin line to walk on.
“You are where my sanity starts,” he murmurs gravely, his jaw setting and brows knitting. He hates to admit these things to me—that much is obvious. But it warms my chest that he shares it with me anyway. “You are where mine ends,” I whisper back. His eyes soften as he leans up and kisses me. Our souls collide.
