Again I feel that invisible pull, all the old feelings rushing back in, and for a brief moment I want nothing more than to press my mouth to his and pick up right where we left off.
But then I remember how he left me in the stacks, literally with my ass exposed, my pants down around my ankles, my thighs still trembling from his mouth. I remember how he ghosted me for weeks after that. And later, how even after confessing his feelings, he bailed before we had a chance to talk about it. To explore what might be possible. Left me again with no more explanation than this:
Everything I touch, I destroy…
Kirin crashed upon my life like the tide, drowning me in desire and feelings I’ve never felt before, only to recede, leaving me moored on the beach like an abandoned ship.
My feelings for him haven’t changed—I see that now. I’m still in love with him. I know he feels it, too. But I can’t let my heart wash up on the shore. Not again.
I close my eyes, forcing myself to break the connection between us.
“Kirin, I can’t,” I whisper. “Not after…”
Not after what you did.
I open my eyes to look at him again, and he releases my hair, backing off immediately.
“I… I’m sorry.” He stands up, putting some much-needed space between us. “I’m so sorry, Stevie. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Then?” I snap, letting the anger back in. Welcoming it. “Or now?”
Kirin’s face crumples, but I’m done with fielding his guilt.
The anger finally boils over, wiping out the last of the regret, and I rise from my chair to face him head-on. “The thing is, Kirin, last month you told me you couldn’t let yourself fall for me because everything you touch, you destroy. You said you didn’t want to hurt me. But this summer, you asked me out in Kettle Black, way before all this started. You said you wanted to hang out and get to know me. Why would you do that if you truly believed it couldn’t go anywhere?”
Kirin shoves his hands into his pockets and shrugs, unable to meet my eyes. Apparently I’m carrying enough anger for both of us, because all he’s got is regret.
“Hope, I guess,” he says. “A stupid lapse in judgment.”
“Well?” I pop my hands on my hips. “Which is it? Hope or stupidity? Because as far as I’m concerned, there’s a pretty big gap between those two options.”
Kirin looks up at me again, but he doesn’t answer. He doesn’thavean answer. Which is just fine by me, because after everything with Baz, I’ve got more than enough complications of the penile nature on my hands. Literallyandfiguratively.
I press my fingers to my temples and shake my head. At this rate, the Dark Arcana don’t need to kill me. These mages are going to do it for them.
“Let’s focus on the work,” I say. “We’ve got a lot to do.”
“Of course, Stevie. I… I understand.” He says the words, but his energy tells a different story. He’s tormenting himself, hating himself for what he did, wishing things were different between us. He knows he hurt me, and now he’s hurting himself.
And he has no idea how I still feel about him.
“It's not enough for you tounderstand, Kirin,” I say. “I need you to be on the same page with me here. We can't fuck this up. We let things get out of hand that night—both of us did. After everything happened, I just… It's all been a wakeup call for me. I don't want anyone else to have to go through what I went through with Phaines, or worse. Maybe it sounds crazy, but I believe the things I've seen in my visions and dreams. I believe that they’re coming. And I also believe we have the power to stop them. That means we have to put a hundred percent into this work right now. None of us can afford to be distracted—not even for a minute.”
“Like you and Baz aren’t distracted?” he grumbles, and a fresh wave of jealousy slams into me.
“You don’t get a say in what I do with Baz or with anyone else for that matter. You lost that right the night you told me we’re not allowed to fall in love.”
We square off, both of us glaring at each other as if we’re ten seconds from drawing weapons, when all I really want to do is forget everything I just said, run into his arms, and kiss him until he realizes how stupid he’s being.
But before I can utter another word, a shrill voice sounds from the other side of the door.
“Yoo-hoo! Is anyone there?”
Janelle Kirkpatrick.
Twenty-Six
STEVIE
