Page 62 of The Encore’s Crown

“That’s not fair.”

His brows pull together.

“What isn’t?”

“You! Ugh.” I raise my hands to the sky, exasperated.

He lets out a tired laugh. “Thanks, it's my goal in life to become an insult. Now if you don't mind—” He reaches to open the door but I interrupt him, the anger rising in the pit of my stomach.

“You ran into a crowd because a stranger needed you, but you can’t walk across a hallway to talk to me? To say goodbye?”

The humor disappears as silence drops between us. He crosses his arms over his chest. My attention catches on the movement because his arms are tools of Satan himself. His muscles move with the tension, making the shadowy snake on his arm and along his back seem almost alive. I realize, suddenly, that I've never seen this much of his skin on display without a screen between us. I swallow and will the thoughts away.

“You were dealing with shit, grieving. I was doing the right thing, giving you space,” he says.

“I didn’t ask for space.”

His gaze snaps back to mine. He takes a breath, visibly trying to control himself.

“Look, you were drunk, I'd had a few. You were hurting… it was a one-time thing. You get back to your life; I get back to mine.” He tries to toss the words out like this is no big deal, but the act doesn't reach his eyes.

“Wow, really? Just like that? So, it meant nothing to you?"

"I didn't say that. It was a mista—"

"I woke up smiling.” Kiri stops, the tension in his shoulders changing. “After we—I woke up smiling,” I repeat. “Like an idiot, over a mistake, apparently.”

His mouth opens but nothing comes out. I step closer.

“I can't believe you're calling what happened between us some mistake. Which range of your bullshit is this? Just denial or full-on asshole?"

He laughs, but there’s no humor in it.

“You want the honest answer?”

“Kurwa! Yes, please, finally!”

His eyes look tired, his patience seems worn down by time and being woken up in the middle of the night.

“I'm trying to let you go. That's why I stopped watching, stopped all of it. You're driving me crazy. I’m sick of fighting this, of torturing myself. I know it can't happen but knowing doesn't stop how I feel. It's only been a few days around you and I'm already fucking exhausted, Nat.”

The air changes around us. One second, we're fighting, the next, every breath feels too loud. I’m suddenly aware of our bodies. That I’m standing only a few feet from his bed. That his room smells like soap, sleep, and the same sandalwood scent that clung to him when he held me. Kiri steps closer and my pulse spikes.

“You think I’m not? Do you know how ridiculous you sound? You can jump into a mosh pit,” I say, quieter now, “but you’re so scared of me, you can't even be in the same room?”

“No, I can't.” His jaw flexes. “Because I don't give a fuck about what happens to me, but I care about what happens to you.”

Everything inside me stops, Kiri’s breathing turns uneven. He looks like he regrets saying it. The admission steals the next argument from my mouth. He doesn’t dress it up or make a joke of it. Just stands there, bare-chested and exhausted, looking at me like fear and hunger have become the same thing. I close the remaining distance, then search his face for a long moment. The silence between us grows thicker, until I finally speak.

“Is that all you think you are? Something that happens to me?”

His eyes move to my mouth and I don't give him time to second guess it before I grab the back of his neck and kiss him. He makes a rough sound against my mouth, something halfway between relief and surrender, and then his hands are on me. One clamps around my waist, the other disappears into my hair. He drives me backward until my shoulders meet the wall beside the door, his body pressing close enough to erase every inch of space between us. This kiss is nothing like the others before it. This is a battle of wills continuing through teeth and breath. I bite his lower lip and he grips my waist harder in response.

“You’re so god damn stubborn,” he mutters against me.

His mouth crashes back onto mine. I drag my nails over his shoulders, catching the marks I left before. He shudders when I touch the bite, and satisfaction burns through me. He pulls back just enough to look at me, then his resolve breaks. Kiri lifts me against him. My legs wrap around his waist on instinct, and he carries me away from the wall without interrupting the kiss. My hands knot in his hair as he sets me against the edge of the desk, sending an empty water bottle rolling to the floor. Something crashes behind me, but neither of us checks what. His mouth moves down my throat. I tip my head back, breath catching as his teeth graze the place where the rush beneath my skin beats hardest, like it's trying to escape.

“You're one to talk,” I whisper.