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“Stay the hell away from Xaden Riorson.”
The guys are mostly shirtless because they think shirts give their opponent something to grab onto. Personally, I’m not arguing with their logic, just enjoying the view…respectfully,
Damn it, I don’t want to find a single thing about Xaden Riorson admirable, and yet here he is, being all annoyingly admirable. Asshole.
Let’s get real. I can hold their hands and make them a bunch of bullshit empty promises about everyone making it through if that helps them sleep, but in my experience, the truth is far more valuable.”
You are not attracted to toxic men, I remind myself, and yet, here I am, getting all attracted.
Hope is a fickle, dangerous thing. It steals your focus and aims it toward the possibilities instead of keeping it where it belongs—on the probabilities.” “So I’m supposed to what? Not hope that I live? Just plan for death?” “You’re supposed to focus on the things that can kill you so you find ways to not die.”
Now, can you push through it, or do you need me to carry you?” “That sounds like an insult, not an offer.” “You’re catching on.” But his pace slows to match mine.
This feeling is why I haven’t wanted anyone…else. Because I want him. There aren’t enough curse words in the world for this.
It’s like a sweet little slice of payback for what you’ve put me through these last couple of months.” He brushes the snow off my hair. “What I’ve put you through?” Unbelievable. “You’ve scared me nearly to death once or twice, so I think saying please is a fair request.”
He opens the door to the dormitory for me, and I walk inside. The motion is so easy that I know it’s not only practiced but second nature, which is at complete odds with, well…everything I’ve come to know about him. I pause, looking at him like we’re meeting for the first time. “What?” he asks, closing the door behind us and shutting out the blustering cold. “You opened the door for me.” “Old habits die hard.” He shrugs.
“Don’t do that,” I whisper, and he lifts his head again to hold my gaze. “Don’t do what? Tell you I can’t get you out of my head? Or speak directly into yours?”
The next day, I ask him what his favorite food is in the middle of Battle Brief, using our mental connection. Pretty sure I hear him drop something at the back of the room before he answers. “Chocolate cake. Stop being weird.”
“He cares for you. That’s already hard enough for him.” I scoff. “He cares about keeping me alive. There’s a difference.” “Not for him there isn’t.”
“We’re riders,” he says, as if that’s explanation enough. He takes hold of my hands and brings them to his chest. “So do whatever you need to get it out. You want to yell? Yell at me. You want to hit something? Hit me. I can take it.”
“I’m just…his.”
“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” His voice lowers. “If not, I’m a fool, because you are magnificently beautiful.”
I’m so damned in love with that man. How am I supposed to keep it off my face?
I never lied when I said I can’t live without you, Violence.” He backs away slowly, his lips curving in a sad smile. “And defenseless women have never been my type, remember?”