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His eyes lighten and his mouth twitches. “There she is,” he says, only for me to hear. “I knew she was in there somewhere.”
it’s Luke I see first, standing just outside the circle. His gaze paralyzes me. He’s probably pissed, but he doesn’t look pissed. His eyes are feverish and feral. Possessive. It’s not the way he looks at those other girls. It’s more.
If Luke won’t run, I’m not running either. I won’t abandon him.
For a fraction of a second, the truth rests between us. He doesn’t hate me. He has never hated me. And I’ve never hated him.
Luke slides out a photo from beneath the top one, and goose bumps crawl along my arms. Danny and I are smiling at the camera, and Luke is looking at me—exactly the way I was looking at him.
