March took a look around, hands fisted at his sides, jaws clenched, and he didn’t answer until I stopped two stairs away from him.
“What exactly did you think I’d do when you lie to my face?” he had the audacity to say.
“Ididn’tlie,” I hissed.
“Oh, really. Is that why you didn’t even mention Talik before Silas asked?”
And he turned around and continued to walk upstairs.
I doubted I’d ever been more frustrated in my life. Fuck, I wanted to scream.
Instead I followed him up to the first floor, and he moved toward the hallway, didn’t climb up to the second. That’s how I knew he didn’t want to walk away, not without talking, at least.
We stopped just around the corner.
“Why would I mention Talik when you didn’t even ask me about it?!” I stopped, hands on my hips, ears burning with my anger.
“Whywouldn’tyou? If you went to see him, and you even saw Reggie—I don’t know, that seems exactly the sort of thing you wouldtell me aboutwhen you saw me!”
“You’re being ridiculous.” And he really was. “I don’t have to tell you about everything I want to do or every place I want to go to, or everyone I see!”
He came all the way up to my face. “Then why are you following me?”
I blinked. Leaned back a bit. “Because you’re…you’re frustrating.” And I hated that he just turned around and left like that. Made me feelguiltyfor no reason at all!
Bitter laughter left his lips. “Well, then let me be perfectly clear with you, Ora: I want to know abouteverythingyouwant to do and every place you want to go and everyone you see. I want to know what you’re thinking all day, every day, and what you’re planning, too. If that’s frustrating to you—fine. I don’t mind. But walk away, right now. Go sleep, and do and see whoever you want.”
He said all this in a breath, and my jaw almost touched the floor. He wasserious.
“Do you hear me?” he said. “Walk. Away.”
Fuck!
I didn’t want to walk away. Damn him, I didn’t want to do any of this, with him or with anyone else. The guilt was going to eat me from the inside—but the look in his eyes was wild.
I waited a moment and two, hoped maybe he’d regret what he said, hoped maybe he didn’t really want me to walk away, that he’d laugh and tell me he was joking or something.
He didn’t.
The problem was, I couldn’t move if I tried. Not sure why—I just thought about turning and walking away, and I couldn’t. Like my feet were glued to the stupid floor.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, tried to reason with myself.
But March leaned closer, and I felt the heat of him just fine without looking. I still opened my eyes, though. I still saw him there. Angry.Furious. As furious as I’d been running up those stairs, and I didn’t even know when we switched places.
“Which one is it?” he said then. “Are you hoping to manipulate me? What exactly are you trying to get out of this? Or maybe you’re just…afraid of me?”
I could have laughed. “I amnotafraid of you.” I wasn’t afraid of anyone.
But March smiled. It didn’t even reach his eyes. “Yes, you are.”
“I’m not?—”
“You’re afraid you’ll get attached, aren’t you.”
This time I did laugh. “You can’t seriously think that! I’ve known you fordaysand you’re assuming I’m afraid you’ll hurt me or something?” Did he really think methatpathetic?
Because the truth was that maybe I wasn’t.
