Cheriour gave me one of his patented indiscernible stares. “Stop lying.”
“I’m not.”
“I know what I saw, Addie. Youthrewyourself into the fire with a Wraith.”
The prickling sensation intensified. But I didn’t know if it was the conversation causing it, or a reaction to the tender way he held my wrist.
“You are immune to fire,” he persisted.
“No, I’m not. And I’m not a freaking hybrid either! Don’t you put—”
“That curse on you…Rickety Body?” he finished.
“Ricky Bobby,”I corrected.“And, crap, yourememberme saying that?”
“Yes. What is a Ricky Bobby?”
“It’s just a saying.” I so wasn’t in the mood to explain the wonderfully intricate story ofTalladega Nightsto someone who wouldn’t appreciate it.
Cheriour sighed. “Addie, fire cannot burn you—”
“Stop—”
“Youarea hybrid.”
My eye twitched. I couldfeelmy face reddening as my blood pressure rose.
“But it’s more than that,” Cheriour continued. “You—”
“I saidstop!”I bellowed. God, why didn’t he get it? “If I’m—I’mnot,but if Iwasa hybrid…well, I guess that’d explain why I survived that goddamn house fire, huh? But where did that land me? In a fucked-up childhood where fucked-up people revolved in and out of my life and did fucked-up things. And then when I finally,finallygot my life somewhat on track, I got booted here. Only to find out the reason I outlived my parents was because some mother-fucking Celestialexperimented on me!I’m not a hybrid. Irefuseto be one.”
“Addie,” Cheriour whispered.
“Shut up!” My throat ached. Had I screamed that whole tangent? Probably.
Cheriour stared, his eyes still and quiet, focused only on me.
Hic-hic-heezewent my unsteady, painful breaths.
He released the sleeve of my shirt and trailed his hand along my arm.
And then he fuckingmassagedthe inside of my wrist, kneading his fingers into muscles I didn’t even know were sore until he soothed them. And he wasgoodat this, applying the right amount of pressure to each pain point.
My stomach squirmed. Not from fear or anger this time—oh no. This was the fun kinda squirm.
“Is it okay if I kiss you?” I blurted. Super romantic. But I didn’t have the patience for light teases and gentle caresses. Not when my emotions were already frazzled. “After the other night…well, I figured I’d ask. It gets the awkwardness out of the way, y’know?”
Cheriour didn’t laugh or scoff at my blunt statement. He studied my face, his thumb rubbing an aching spot on the inside of my palm, and nodded.
Yes, yes…ohhellyes!
I kissed him. Hard. Actually, I think Ibithim—I wasn’t sure if my mouth even made contact with his, or if I just sucked his lips between my teeth. Not that I wanted to hurt him. Never. Pain play was not my kink.
But I wanted to get away from my jumbled emotions. And sex—especially rough sex—usually got my brain to shut down.
So, yeah, I threw myself at Cheriour like a cat in heat.
But then he touched my cheek, stilling me.
