Her tongue peeks out as she wets her lips. “Are you telling me off?”
Am I? Probably. I rake my fingers through my hair. “It kills me that you’re setting yourself up to hurt each time.”
“Who says I’m the one who hurts?” The challenge in her rises fresh and fast.
I break all the promises to myself I made earlier, and snag the front of her denim top, pulling her closer. “You whisper in your lyrics but you scream in your head. I read the letters, and you know what,princess?” I growl, leaning forward into her space.
Cha Cha stops breathing as she stares up at me, frozen as a statue. “What?” No tremor accompanies the single word.
“I agree.” I let go of her shirt, and lean back. Fuck, I need the space.
She breaths. “What?” Her breath comes faster. “You agree withwhat, Drake?”
“Come here.” She’s backed away from me, but I’m not having that right now. “I’m not the person you should be afraid of.”
“How do I know that? You could be the person writing the letters.” the words tumble out of her mouth and her eyes widen even as her hands rise to cover her mouth. “I didn’t— I’m sorry. Drake?—”
“Come. here,” I murmur, keeping my voice low as I curl my fingers again.
“I’m sorry.” She trips on her way back and I catch her wrist. It’s a good cover for drawing her in closer. Not that being too close stops me because she’s about to get that next lesson real fast. “Drake? Too much. Too–”
I pull her in tight, one hand closed on her wrist, the other gripping her chin, tipping her face up to mine. “You’re right. I could have written those letters. Any of them.”
“Drake?” The uncertainty in her eyes leaves my blood roaring. I hate seeing her so unsure in my hold, but she has to learn this. Even about me. “You're scaring me.”
I know, princess.
“I could have written those letters. Hell,” I bark out a sharp laugh. “I even tried, but the thought of hurting you made me sick.” I run my thumb along the inside of her wrist. “I understand why they’re obsessed with you, princess. I get why the sasaeng wait hours for your show to end just for a glimpse. Being next to you…it’s intoxicating.”
Her breath puffs against my lips almost as fast and shallow as mine. Hell, I'm driving her to another panic attack. I don’t want that, but she has to know.
“Tell me it’s not you, Drake.” The command in her voice wars with something else. Something softer.
A plea.
We have trust. There’s…something…between us and she’s fucking begging me not to ruin that.
“And if it is?” I press my thumb over her pulse point. “If it is me writing those hateful things about you, aching for you, needing you but wanting to hurt you, what then, princess?” I whisper. “I brought you all the way out here, and we’re alone. Because you’re right. Anyone could have written those letters. It could have been me.”
Cha Cha stops. The world pauses between us, around us. She leans forward, and her soft, sweet breath kisses my lips. “It’s not you.”
Her certainty devours me. “You don’t know that.”
The gentlest smile teases her lips and I ache for her, worse than ever. “I do, actually.” the hint of her sweet as hell,fuck youattitude is back, and I’m here for it.
“Tell me.”
“Aren’t you demanding?” She seems to delight in the tease, holding all the power, at least as she sees it. Or maybe that’s her safe zone, where I fall, for now.
“Plenty,” I murmur.
Cha Cha pouts when I don’t play her game. “You called me princess,” she says, as though that explains everything.
“Your safety net is my pet name for you?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Uh huh.” She giggles for me and fuck if I don’t pull her in a little closer.
“And if you’re wrong?” Her clothes are soft beneath my hands, the material thin.
