His eyes dropped to my mouth, lingering with all those dark, conflicted thoughts. The raw tension between us was almost unbearable—his proximity, his half-nakedness, his pain and hate and fury.
For one suspended moment, I swore he might kiss me in a fit of rage.
But then his hands spasmed around my hips. His touch scalded through my sodden clothes and with effortless ease, he hoisted me up to sit on the edge again.
I shivered harder, the sound of water dripping off me the only noise as thick awareness roped us together. He didn’t step away—staying between my spread thighs, his hands still gripping me. His arms flexed as he steadied me, veins standing out like dark lines beneath his skin.
The longer he stared at me, the more I crumbled. I didn’t trust what I’d do the longer we shared this intimate intensity.
“Why...” I swallowed hard, my breath catching. “W-Why are you t-torturing yourself in this f-freezing pool?”
His eyes shuttered—everything about him shut down as if he’d reached his limit.
I slouched, accepting he wouldn’t answer me—
“It’s the only thing...apart from you...that helps,” he said, rough and low. “The cold dulls whatever they use to subdue me. It keeps me from burning alive.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
His jaw clenched, his eyes once again diving into mine with a hint of surprise. “You’re not the one who did it.”
“They keep you in pain constantly.” The ache in my chest swelled until it hurt to breathe. My eyes fell to his mouth. The sharp perfection of it and the streak of blood ending at his chin.
I reached to wipe the redness away, but he caught my wrist, his fingers snapping painfully tight.
“What are you doing?” he growled.
Good question.
WhatwasI doing?
Why was I drawn to him again and again?
Why did my annoying crush get stronger and stronger the more I was around him?
Why did the urge to help him chase away my shivers and fill me with injustice for his pain, his suffering, his misery—overwhelming me with the need to help?
Twisting my wrist in his grip, I tried to get free.
He didn’t let me go. “What exactly are you up to?”
I didn’t know if it was rioting emotions inside me, my lack of ability withstanding them, or the way he held me, but truth escaped against my control.
“I-I want to do s-something for you.”
His eyes flared. “Dosomething for me?”
“Something that w-will make you h-happy.”
“Happy?” His entire hand jerked around my arm. “Why?”
I winced at my audacity but stayed as honest as I could. What was the worst that could happen? He wouldn’t kill me. I didn’t know why I was so certain of that but...he won’t.
“Because you’re not happy,” I whispered. “And I d-don’t think you have b-been for a v-very long time.”
He froze. The flicker of wary shock on his terribly handsome face made my stupid heart skip a thousand beats. He stared at me, jaw tight, eyes unreadable, the fire beneath his skin and the cold air merging into one impossible connection.
Neither of us spoke.
