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Blood roars in my ears. What the fuck?

Yeah, Emma might drive me insane, and I might want her out of here for both our sakes—I’m not good enough for her, and I know it—but at least I can see the spark in her. I know she’s got fire inside her, and I’d never condescend to her or treat her like a damn child.

“Why would I lie to you?” she asks, that spark flaring to life in her eyes as annoyance tinges her voice.

“I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” A moment of silence follows that, and then I watch Peter try once more. “I miss this,” he says, leaning in for a kiss.

Nope.

No fucking way.

I don’t care whether the fuck he’s trying to kiss her or not, I’m not having it. Any of it. I just want this shit to stop. I storm around the corner and stride toward Peter, grabbing him by his preppy little collared shirt and shoving him away from her. I don’t even break a fucking sweat doing it, and as Peter stumbles, trying to regain his balance, I’m nearly overwhelmed by the urge to grab his shirt again with one hand and hold him steady while I punch him until my fists are bloody.

Sucking in a ragged breath, I force the beast inside me to stand down.

Then I take Emma by the hand and drag her along with me, pulling her away. We make it around the corner I just came from before she digs her heels in, her shoes skidding across the cement walkway as she tries to stop me.

She’s not strong enough to even slow me down. But I stop anyway, turning around to face her. I’m breathing heavily, my nostrils flaring with every inhale.

“What are you doing?” Emma asks in horror, her voice higher than usual and her eyes wide.

“Getting that piece of shit off you.”

“He’s not a piece of shit.”

I scoff, my lips curling. “Come on, Emma. Open your eyes.”

She shrinks away from me, a flash of fear passing through her eyes. And that stops me. I realize that I’m absolutely filled with rage and jealousy. It’s coursing through me, and because my body has grown so much since high school, I’m almost afraid of what I’m capable of—just like Emma is.

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this,” she whispers. “You were so quiet this afternoon.”

I look deep into her eyes, losing myself in the rich brown. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful, and I know I never will.

But I don’t get to have her. She was never mine.

“You’re throwing yourself at that guy because of what’s going on with Trent,” I grit out.

“What?” Her eyes fly wide.

“You heard me. There’s no point in denying it.”

“Please, West.”

“Don’t please, West me,” I growl, the anger surging to the surface so strongly I can’t contain it. “Is that why you turned me down in high school?” I demand, my heart pounding in my chest.

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t pretend you forgot. You fucking turned me down, Emma. Was it because you were in love with Trent?”

I watch as she freezes, not knowing how to reply. There’s so much emotion and vulnerability in her eyes. It makes me want to grab her and hold her still, freeze her in time so I can stare into those mesmerizing eyes and read eve

ry little detail in them like a book.

I want to know her deepest secrets and desires. I want to know if any of them are about me.

I know all of mine are about her.

“Why the fuck are you doing this, West?” Emma’s jaw clenches, and she shoves against me, pushing her hands into my pecs. I find it so amusing that a feral smile tilts my lips. Does she truly think she can push me away?


Tags: Eva Ashwood Romance