“You just need to start trusting me,” he finishes for me. “Trust the scary, unpredictable sociopath?” I ask lightly, leaning down to kiss him to take any potential sting out of my words. Carter reaches up and grabs a fistful of my hair, dragging me off him and rolling me onto my back. “Not a sociopath.” “Right,” I murmur. “You’re just manipulative, fine with exploiting and violating the rights of others, callously disregarding—” Rather than allow me to continue my diagnosis, Carter kisses me.
