“Ow.” I wince. “What was that for?”
“You’re real.”
“That’s what I was saying.”
“You’re here.”
“Obviously.”
“Why are you here?” He narrows his eyes. “Did you have some sort of rendezvous with Captain?”
“You sent me a text saying you were here alone, remember?”
“So you’re here for me?” He says it with such wonder, as if he doesn’t believe it.
“Don’t expect me to say it.”
“You’re so fucking infuriating — do you know that?”
“You kind of told me that in long clingy texts.” I was supposed to scold him or something, but I sound happy even to my own ears.
I don’t even remember the last time I was happy, or if happiness means just sitting on someone’s lap and having them palm your cheek.
No, not someone. Him. Ronan.
His lips tilt in a smirk. “You still came.”
I scoff.
“Now, belle, it’s time for your confessions.”
“My confessions?”
“Don’t think I forgot about it. What did you do wrong?”
As he speaks, he strokes the skin of my wrist and runs his other thumb near my lip, but not close enough to touch it.
“I don’t know,” I murmur.
“Of course you do. You just don’t want to say it. You have to, belle.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
“Then we’ll just keep circling in an endless vicious cycle. I’m as fucked up as you are.”
“Fine. It’s about Agnus and how I refused to let go when you told me to.”
“Why didn’t you?”
I bite my lower lip and try to stare away, but he brings me back with a firm grip on my chin that has my thighs tightening.
“Why, Teal?” He has a way of speaking with a command in his tone that turns me to putty in his hands.
This is so wrong.
And yet so right.
“I wanted to see your reaction, okay?”