“Then no.”
If my attitude bothers him, he doesn’t let it show.
I turn my attention to my soggy, gross salad, glaring at it while I silently beg him to go away. I’m convinced it’s a visual representation ofmy willpower whenever Dread comes around—mushy and… wet?
Jesus Christ, I need a fucking lobotomy.
In that moment, Severen hits the bottom of his apple juice, creating an obnoxious suction noise. I glower at him, Dread stares at me, and Severen’s eyes pinball between the two of us like we’re the most entertaining tennis match in the world.
“Are you having fun?” I ask Severen with an annoyed sigh, prompting him to finally stop sucking on the straw and look at me.
He shrugs a shoulder. “Honestly, I feel like being around you two is a safety hazard.” He licks his pointer finger and holds it in the air before shaking his hand like it zapped him, a grin playing at his lips. “Oh, yeah, that’s electric as fuck. Just like in all my romance books.”
“I’m telling Octavia about when you put a bee’s nest in my room knowing I’m allergic to them,” I deadpan.
His grin drops. “That was three years ago.”
“That was attempted murder,” I remind him dryly.
“I had an EpiPen just in case,” he mutters, focusing on his novel again with a slight pout.
However, Dread doesn’t spare him a single second of his attention. He hasn’t looked away from me once, and his stare is burning, my skin hot again.
“I’ll make you a deal. If you come with me, I promise not to lay a single finger on you unless you ask me to,” Dread proposes.
“I won’t,” I snip before I can stop myself.
He grins, the act slow and devilish. “Okay.”
He doesn’t sound convinced, and that annoys me.
“You’re not trustworthy,” I continue. “So, the answer is still no.”
“I’ve never lied to you, Rev,” he says quietly. “I may have fucked with your head, but I meant everything I said.”
I find that hard to believe.
“What’s the plan this time?” I ask, pushing away those thoughts and forcing steel back into my tone. “Gonna put me in another grave? Maybe this time, it’ll have a fake dead body in it with another fake handwritten note from my father.”
The muscle in Dread’s jaw pulses, which only prods at my sensitive nerves.
I cock my head and stare up at him innocently. “What, don’t like being reminded of just how much of an asshole you are?”
“I’ll own up to every single thing I’ve done to you, Rev, but that boxand note was not one of them.”
I would be a complete idiot to trust him again. Out of all people, why did it have to be him to make me feel this way? Why couldn’t it be anyone else?
“Do you think I want to feel this way?” he asks, his voice rough and hushed.
The question rattles me. It’s a response to exactly what I was thinking, and it’s unnerving how easily he can read me.
“Do you have any idea how badly I want it to be anyone else but you?” he continues. “Except the thought of it being anyone else fucking repulses me. And I hate that, too.”
I clench my jaw, feeling myself giving in and hating myself for it. My willpower is definitely fucking mushy, and I really hate that for me.
As if sensing my wavering willpower, he urges softly, “Just come with me for a few hours. That’s all I’m asking.”
I’ll never understand the power he has over me and why it’s so fucking impossible to reclaim it.
