Nodding, I scrub my face with the hem of my shirt. My voice breaks, but this time it’s from awe.
“He looked like he could tear him apart with his bare hands.”
“Merda.”
Her breathless whisper draws a near-laugh from me.
Caspian’s strenght wasn’t what really set off the butterflies—it was the restraint.
The calm control.
His fury against Ryan was palpable, but he kept it contained.
It was bizarre to witness.
Like he was keeping the rage in a tank and taking only what he needed, not a drop more.
For someone whose emotions spill out whether I want them to or not, his self-mastery was…
Yeah. Pretty much the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
“I can totally see that,” Maria says slowly.
“I can totally see him storming in like the Hulk for you.”
Then she smirks.
“Guess they weren’t besties after all.”
“Guess not.”
She sits on the edge of the bed and pulls me next to her.
“What’s the plan?”
I deflate.
“There’s no plan after how I’ve behaved.”
“Luckily we have this amazing thing called communication. I’m sure he’ll understand why you’ve acted like a feral hedgehog if you explain it to him.”
“He won’t.”
A quiet voice in my head suggests I might be underestimating him.
A louder, more dramatic one insists it’s too late.
“Oh,” Maria says, tilting her head. “You must have a crystal ball if you know that already.”
“Don’t mock me. He told me to take care.”
This is Antonio di Scotti, live from the scene, reporting a human rights violation.
“Surely you can see that everything’s lost,” I mutter.
“Surely you can see you’ve hopped on your drama llama.”
“There is no drama llama,” I insist. “There is Caspian saying goodbye—and why wouldn’t he? I tore him to shreds every time he tried to get close.”
