There’s a beat of tension between us, filled only with Benson Boone’s “Beautiful Things.” When Rhys reaches over to cover myhand with his, the heat of his palm rockets through my entire body. “Charlotte, pull this car over.”
Confused and suspicious, I slide a glance at him, but only for a second because this roadiswinding, and Iamgoing fast. “Why?”
He pulls his hand away. “Stop. The. Car.”
“And I asked why?”
“Obviously, we need to talk.”
I nod at him. “Talk.”
Oh, my God, the hostility coming off him hits me like a hot wave. “Not while you’re driving like a fucking madwoman.”
“Fine,” I snap, and when I spot an area to pull off onto, I park and kill the engine. “Now what?”
“We get out.”
Rhys exits the Sentra, leaving me with no choice but to follow. Apparently, now we’re hiking because off he goes on a goddamn adventure. I chase after him, catching up to his long-legged strides along the side of the road and over the guardrails, down the gradual descent toward the river.
“Where are we going?” I call from behind him.
“For a walk.”
Wonder how hard Captain Obvious would hit the dirt if I nailed him behind his knees. You know, the bigger they are… “Why are we going for a walk?”
He releases a long and loud sigh as if my reasonable question bothers him. Then he stops and turns. “Because you need a walk, Charlotte.”
Oh, do I? “Me, I need a walk,” I repeat snottily.
“What part of that simple sentence did you not understand, or should I say it in crayon?”
“You’re a dick,” I snap.
Up goes that eyebrow. “I am what you made me.”
Pursing my lips, I slam my hands on my hips and glare at the arrogant asshole. “What part of ‘I’d love nothing more than to drop you off any-fucking-where and return to my normal life’ doyounot understand?”
“If that were true, I wouldn’t be here.” Rhys destroys the space between us, grips my chin with one hand, and fists my hair with the other. He blocks out everything, and even though the scents of old rain and outdoors cling to him, I could breathe this man in all day, every day, and never grow tired of his scent. And therein lies my problem. I should be offended that he would dare put his hands on me, but here I am, struggling not to melt into his touch. “And we both know it.”
“You can’t be Rhys Ravenstone,” I rasp. “He’s not real.”
Sexy as hell, the tip of his tongue peeks out to slide across the seam of his lips. He steps closer. Close enough that our bodies touch. “Accept the truth, Charlotte.”
My gaze flicks to the scar puckering his left cheek. “How did you get that?”
“You put it there.”
“I didn’t.”
Without hesitation, he says, “Fine, you didn’t.”
“This is insane,” I insist, then, “Please, just tell me the truth.”
He drops his head until our lips almost brush. “You put it there, Charlotte Allison Mallory, the same way you gave me this hair and this face.” He releases my hair to grab my hand, pressing my palm to his chest. “And this body.” Pressing my hand against him, he slides it down, down, down, and I gasp againsthis mouth when we cup his heavy groin. “And the piercing to go with it. But I have one thing you didn’t give me.”
“What is it?” I breathe, mentally tripping over what I added to the Antihero avatar after I swiped right.
His malicious grin captivates me. Devastates me. “Free. Fucking. Will. I don’t have to love you. I don’t even have tolikeyou.” He brings his lips close to my ear, grazing the upper shell to send a riot of chills skidding across my fevered flesh. “Now, I shared my secret. I dare you to confess yours.”
