“He didn’t. You did.”
She blinked. “What? I didn’t punch you.”
“No, but you shoved me aside. And when you did, the side of my face hit the edge of the bar.”
Not again.
She groaned. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
What are the odds? I’ll have to ask Pixel to do some calculations.
Clarke
Clarke smiled as he pulled the handkerchief away from his lip. “Is it gone?”
She nodded. “Yeah. And the bleeding’s stopped. I hope your lip won’t swell.” She paused. “Too much.”
He could already feel it swelling. What he couldn’t feel was anger.
Not when she looks at me like that.
“I forgive you,” he said, grinning.
He was surprised it didn’t hurt to grin. Probably because of the alcohol. Or maybe it was her. He was certain it would hurt. At some point. Later.
She cocked her head. “I don’t recall asking you for your forgiveness.”
“Nevertheless.”
He wanted her to lean into him again like she had when she was trying to wipe the blood from his lip. He found himself wishing it would start bleeding again.
She pouted, taking on a mocking tone. “Does it hurt? Do you want me to kiss it and make it feel better?”
“And if I said yes?”
She blinked and was quiet. She hadn’t expected him to say that. He could see it in her eyes. It’s something the Man in the Iron Mask would say. Something that fearless driver would say.
She tried to sound careless, but he noticed a difference; her voice had become breathy.
“Why do you need the reassurance? Too fragile to hearno? Or maybe you’ve never heard no before?”
“Yes,” he murmured, feeling his heart pounding in his ears.
She frowned. “Wait. Yes, to which …?”
He grabbed her arms, swung her around, putting her back up against the brick wall. “Does that answer your question?”
“I’m. Not. Sure. Maybe.”
He leaned in, feeling the softness of her body yield and sink into his hard chest. Placing his lips so close he couldn’t tell the difference between his own breath and hers. He could smell the bourbon on her breath. How could it smell so sweet?
“It’s only fair that you should make it feel better, since you’re the one who put it there.”
“I suppose that’s true.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
He let go of her arms, slid his hands up and over her shoulders, stopping only when they’d reached her neck. His hands could swallowit whole and then some. How could a girl who wasn’t fragile have a neck like this?
He placed his lips on hers and only entered her mouth when she’d opened hers, inviting him in. She tasted so sweet. She reached around him, pulling him toward her.She must know what she’s doing to me, he thought. She couldn’t not feel him—not as hard as he was.
