“I need to talk to you about something,” I quietly admit. He doesn’t look concerned—not as concerned as he should be. “Okay, what is it?” He leans closer, too close, and I try to step away, only to be reminded that he has me cornered against the wall. Hardin raises his other arm to completely block me in, and when my eyes meet his, an obvious smirk covers his face.
Have I ever hated a character more than Hardin?
