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I look down at myself, my black hoodie and my shorts. “What?”

“Were you planning on breaking the law again?”

I swallow and fist my hands on my knees. “No.”

Yes.

His lopsided smile is slow to come and that’s how I know he’s a little drunk. That and his boozy, musky smell.

Zach looks away from me and toward the sky.

A few seconds pass in silence and I stare at him like a lovesick fool.

I am a fool, in any case. Because I was going to break the law just so I could talk to him. The guy who’s made me cry countless times. The guy who’s repeatedly insulted me, hurt me and tormented me.

My bully.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Watching the stars.”

I look at the cottages again. They’re still dark, without a hint of movement. “Why are you watching them from practically under my window?”

He shrugs again.

Now that I’m close to him, I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to go away but I don’t know how to stay, either.

“Watch them from your room up in tower two, okay? Get up.”

Finally, he focuses on me, his eyes both shadowed and bright from the moonlight. Which kind of looks buttery and yellow when it touches his skin.

“Do I look like I can get up?”

He goes back to staring at the sky. His breaths are unhurried, lazy almost, like he’s soaking up the night one puff of air at a time.

Even sprawled like this, he looks powerful. As if he’s the only guy in this whole wide world. The rest of us are inconsequential.

Or maybe it’s not power. It’s the loneliness.

Has he always been lonely? I can’t remember. My hatred for him was so strong that I never paid attention to anything below the surface.

Sighing, I get up and offer him my hand. “Come on. Let’s get you away from here.”

Zach carefully observes my hand for at least ten seconds before taking it in sluggish movements. Our hands clasp, mine clammy with all the nervous sweat and his hot and dry.

And scratchy.

Swallowing, I tighten my fingers around his and pull him with all my strength. He doesn’t even budge. He lies there, staring up at me, as if he couldn’t care less about the whole thing.

Staring back at him, I pull again.

Not even a twitch.

But then, I feel him curling his fingers around mine tightly. And before I can even gasp, he yanks me down.

My breath is knocked out as soon as I make contact with his hard body.

“What the…” I squeak in shock.


Tags: Saffron A. Kent St. Mary's Rebels Romance