“What did he do?”
Look at you. Touch you. Hug you.Impress youwith a lame concert ticket.
“Did he send you to defend him?” I ask, weaving among the expensive rattan chairs my mom bought. “Did he send his little girlfriend to make sure the ‘bad guy’ doesn’t hurt him anymore?” I mock, my voice dripping with sarcasm. And I get exactly what I expect from Bunny—pure, unfiltered hatred.
I need to see that hatred because when I don’t, I lose my mind. She’s never been this expressive, this angry, or this sad. I’ve always pushed Bunny, testing her limits, trying to see how far I could go, but I’ve never managed to push her over the edge. We’ve both danced around it, flirting with the madness that we provoke in each other. But today, it seems like I’ve finally succeeded.
“He’s the only guy who talks to me at school! Why are you doing this to me? What did I do to you!? Tell me now, because I can’t go on like this, Silas!” Her scream shocks me, sending a rush of adrenaline through my veins.
In an instant, I’m right in front of her, needing to see her up close. Tears stream down her face, and she’s desperately searching for an answer, something that makes sense, something she can cling to. But I only have one thing to say to her. “You’re alive,” I whisper through clenched teeth. “That’s enough to drown me.”
“What?” she whispers back, utterly confused, her eyes wide and tangled with emotion. She’s probably realizing that I might be a psychopath. And she wouldn’t be entirely wrong. I’m not usually like this with people; in fact, I don’t interact with anyone unless I get something in return. If I want to hook up with someone, I might be friendly, smile, or even say something romantic. Maybe—let’s emphasize, MAYBE. I’m not all bad. I have some positive traits; my familyonly knows one side of me—the perfect straight-A son who helps his mother, the brother who gives advice, and whatever else they might say about me. But with Lauren Green, there’s only one feeling, and it makes me spend hours staring at the stupid ceiling, wondering why I hate this girl with every cell in my body.
“Want a reason? Here it is, Lauren Green: you ruin my life just by existing, breathing, and being wherever I am.”
“I’ve never done anything to you! I haven’t hurt you or made fun of you! I don’t even talk to you, Silas.”
“AND THAT’S WHY I HATE YOU!” I shout, the last shred of control slipping away.
Lauren’s mouth snaps shut as she watches me fall apart right in front of her. I start pacing, the anger boiling over.
“I don’t understand,” she murmurs, almost to herself.
Can’t she see my fucking pain? Doesn’t she see that I need her? Damn it!
I take long, purposeful strides toward her, and she instinctively backs away until she’s pressed against the bookshelf behind her.
“Maybe you’ll finally understand …” I murmur against her lips before I crush my mouth against hers, burying all my confusion, anger, and desperation in the kiss.
Lauren takes a sharp breath, her body going rigid under my weight. My hands press against the shelves, trapping her in the chaos of my emotions. At first, she’s too shocked to respond, but when I push forward, seeking permission with my tongue, she parts her lips and lets me in. A moan escapes me as I finally taste her soft, warm lips, something I’ve craved since the day I met her. My hands move to her face, pulling her closer, while hers hang limply at her sides.
I’m not stupid; I know this moment won’t last, but I want to etch it into my memory forever. The fox doesn’t always get the rabbit, but that doesn’t stop me from kissing her with everything I’ve got. It feels like I’m kissing for the first time, and I want more. I want to take her to the nearest room, throw her down like some primitive caveman, and claim her as mine. Our lips disconnect when Lauren pushes meaway, her eyes brimming with disgust and tears—feelings that cut through me, though they shouldn’t.
“Don’t you ever kiss me without my permission again!” she shouts, furiously wiping her lips clean, erasing every trace of our kiss. Every traceof me.
A wave of hatred surges inside me, dark and overwhelming, and Lauren’s defiance seems to shrink under its weight. I lean in, covering her with my presence, my darkness, letting my fury pour out with a cold, dead stare.
“Just as I imagined,” I snarl, my voice laced with bitter resentment. “Kissing you is like kissing a fucking brick wall. I can’t wait to let everyone know, especially Mateo.”
Lauren breaks down, tears streaming down her face as she runs out of the pool house. I don’t even watch her go; I just stand there, staring blankly at the bookshelf like a dead man.
That’s how I feel anyway.
Lauren
Ihear Silas behind me, his footsteps unmistakable in the quiet office, but I keep my head down, pretending to be engrossed in my phone. There’s no one on the other end, of course. My shift is done, and my work here is finished. I’m not sure why he’s approaching.
“Hey,” he says, voice firm but casual. I don’t turn around, just make my way to my desk to grab my things. I can feel his gaze on me, but I’ve gottenused to ignoring it.
“You worked hard today. You deserve a good dinner.” His tone has that commanding edge that seems to come naturally to him.
“Thanks, but I’m just going to head home,” I reply, packing up quickly. After a full day of dealing with the Walkers—Silas, his brothers, their father—I’m completely drained.
“At least call a cab. It’s late,” he says, standing too close.
“I’m fine, Silas. It’s not the first time I’ve taken the subway this late.” I throw my bag over my shoulder, glancing at him to step aside.
He doesn’t move. “Are you implying I don’t know what the subway’s like?” He raises an eyebrow, as if daring me to say it.
