“It does.”
I squirm, glancing down the hall.If somebody sees…“Sutton, maybe we shouldn’t?—”
“Now you care?”
It’s a similar question to what he asked me that evening in the basement of the Apollodorus, and I’m still not sure what exactly has changed. He wasjustrejecting me in his apartment,wasn’t he?
“Are you finally admitting out loud that you don’t?”
“Don’t pretend you ever bought my excuses in the first place.”
“Verbal confirmation is always a good thing.”
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he rushes out. “Right now, that’s all I know.”
My heart hammers in my throat, but I force my gaze away. “I don’t want you to hate me.”
“That’s not possible.”
The air around me dries up as he palms the back of my head with one hand. The other gently—so gently—brushes my chin.
He leans in, and I barely have time to process what’s happening before his lips are on mine, damp and soft and lush as they mold against me. Like they were made to connect, to crush, to explore. My heart ricochets around in my chest, making me dizzy as heat races through my veins.
Every nerve ending in my body is on fire as he flicks his tongue against the seam of my mouth, seeking entry.
Even though I know I shouldn’t, I let him in. I fold instantly, letting out a ragged breath when his tongue breaches the depthsof my mouth, sweeping and tasting as if this could be his very last meal. Or maybe it’s his first. A drop of water after an eternity of thirst.
His kiss obliterates all my concerns from before, shattering my attempts at resolve. This isn’t the kiss of a man who’s afraid someone might see or who’s really afraid of losing his career. It’s the kiss of a man who knows what he wants and goes after it. Who’ll fight for his right to embrace passion.
It’s the kiss of a man asking—no,begging—for more.
Distantly, the sound of a door clicking shut, followed by the clearing of a throat, yanks me from the moment. I jolt back to reality, disentangling myself with more effort than I’ve ever exerted in my entire life.
“Sutton…”
“Christ.” Pulling away, he threads his fingers through his hair, tugging on the roots. “I know.” Blowing out a breath, he spins around in a circle.
I don’t move a muscle.
“I’d better get back,” he mutters, his spine stiff, eyes on my lips.
He wipes his mouth but doesn’t leave. There’s a clear hunger in his gaze. A request for a repeat, damn the consequences.
Swallowing my feelings, I duck my head and go back to the study room where Lexington and Percy are now arm-wrestling on their stomachs on the floor. Still shaky from the entire thing, I walk over and take a seat next to Meg, who lets out an excited shout at my return.
“ThankGod. These two have the attention span of hamsters.” She frowns, glancing down. “Did you not have enough money for the vending machines?”
“Aw, poor Elle,” Lexington calls, leaning up to try and leverage his weight against Percy. “We could’ve given you some cash.”
Confusion knits my brows together, and I look at my hands—which are empty.
“Oh.” I force a laugh and press my fingers to my tingling lips, shaking my head. “No, no, I just…wasn’t thirsty anymore.”
27
SUTTON
Quincy Anderson tapsher fingers on the edge of her desk, as if uncomfortable with my very presence despite us having interacted several times previously this semester.
