“I only want to make you proud,” I whisper. Blair goes very, very still. For a long second, then two, there is only the frantic beat of my own heart in my ears. Then, his throat works as he swallows. He turns his head slowly, and his eyes find mine in the dim light. I brace for him to recoil, to laugh, to say anything that will shatter this moment into a million jagged pieces I deserve. His voice, when he finally speaks, is a low rasp that slices right through me. “You already have.”
