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His usual statement said in a dangerous tone jacks up my breaths. It makes me hypersensitive. So much so that I feel that drop he was watching slide further down my body, reaching between my breasts.
But I try to focus on what he’s saying.
“I had to. You were being an asshole,” I tell him.
“And you were quite the picture of politeness yourself.”
I fist my sweaty hands at his accusation. “Well, you made me angry.”
“So you dumped your lemonade on me.”
My eyes go to his foot then, his right one that I stomped on. “And stomped on your foot.”
He narrows his eyes slightly as he continues, “You also left me to pay your bill.”
I wince.
I can’t believe I did that.
I’ve never, not in my entire life, run out of a restaurant without paying the bill.
Not until him.
But then that’s nothing new, is it?
I do things for him that I’ve never done. I feel things for him that I’ve never felt before.
He turns me into a different Callie. His Callie.
His Fae.
Swallowing, I dispel these useless thoughts. "Well, you broke my heart so I think I’m allowed that.”
His eyes flash when I throw back his words from the bar. “You are.”
“But even so, I can give you back your money. I have some cash in my bag.”
I do, and I can pay him back.
His folded arms flex as he considers my offer. And they’re so big and sculpted that I can see the hilly contours of them, his biceps, even through his hoodie.
His soft, cozy, warm hoodie.
Finally, he says, “Yeah, money is not what I’m interested in tonight.”
Like always, his tone is what gets me. His tone that sounds all dangerous and villainous.
And something else that I’m trying not to think about, seductive.
I lick my lips. “Are you here for revenge then?”
He glances down at my lips for a second. “I haven’t decided yet.”
I don’t think a threat that sounds like a threat, feels like a threat, should also make things move inside of my stomach.
Innocent things like butterflies and tingles.
Corrupt things like thick, heated desire.
“Before you decide either way,” I begin. “I want to say something.”
He arches an arrogant eyebrow. “I’m listening.”
I want to purse my lips and narrow my eyes at his condescending tone, but I keep my features blank and say, “Even though you deserved it, it wasn’t my intention to do those things. It wasn’t my intention to dump my drink on you or stomp on your foot. Or even attack you like I did back at the bar. I’m not this violent person, despite all the evidence to the contrary. I don’t do these things. I don’t…”
I don’t steal cars…
I don’t say that but it’s right there. On the tip of my tongue.
That and the question, why.
Why did he save me? Why did he have the charges reduced after how I tried to destroy something that he’d built?
As I said, he deserved it, but why?
Reed, on the other hand, has no hesitation in asking me that question.
“Then why did you?” His voice is thick and raspy. “Do those things.”
I know he’s asking me about these recent events and not what I did two years ago. Still, I answer him like he is. “Because… because you make me crazy. You make me angry. You make me do things that I never thought I’d do in a million years. You turn me into this…”
I trail off again and again he picks up the thread. “I turn you into what?”
Those innocent little things inside of me, those corrupt little things, all of them go haywire. They go crazy and chaotic as I whisper, “Bad. You turn me into a bad girl.”
Fae.
Maybe that’s the magic in him. That dark magic that makes girls do things for him.
That makes them go crazy for him, fall in love with him even though they know that he’ll always end up breaking their hearts.
His gorgeous features are blank so I have no clue what he’s thinking right now and it’s not my business to figure it out either and so I keep going. “And that’s why I think it’s better if… if you stay away from me.”
At this, he says something even though his features are still unreadable. “You want me to stay away from you.”
I nod.
It’s more of a jerk than a smooth motion. “Yes, I do. Aside from what I just said, my brothers will lose it. They will kill you for going near me. And —”
“I can handle them,” he says. “Haven’t I told you this before?”
I grit my teeth and purposefully stop my breaths.
I refuse to breathe.
Refuse to take air into my lungs and give life to my body, give beats to my heart.
All these years later, his cavalier attitude still gets me. His reckless, cavalier, daredevil attitude.
God, Callie. You idiot.
“Even so. I don’t think we have anything to say to each other after what happened.”
