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My eyes flutter closed and I let myself fall, even knowing it’ll hurt when I hit the ground.

But if this is wrong, then I don’t want anything to be right ever again.

18

Astrid

The push isn’t painful, the fall is.

* * *

I sit in Levi’s car — the same car I vandalised. That should mean the sky will fall on the ground any second now.

I’m still stunned from the kiss in the car park. I unknowingly find myself licking my lips as if I’m chasing the taste.

The surreal feeling.

The complete abandonment.

It’s like an experience out of my own skin, and I still can’t wrap my head around it.

As if that isn’t enough, Levi kidnapped me to his car saying that he’ll drive me home. He wasn’t hearing my half-attempts at reminding him that Dan is my ride. Then, the rain started pouring and he pushed me inside the Jaguar.

Of course, someone like Levi drives a fast car. Everything about him is. Nothing goes slow when he’s around including my heartbeat, my thoughts, and my memories.

And I’m licking my lips again. Dammit.

I need a night’s sleep to think through whatever mess I’m in the middle of.

It doesn’t matter whether I back off or not. Levi is the type who slams in head first just like he did with Jerry.

The power from earlier still stifles the air like a potent aftertaste.

Even now while driving, he has this constant, volatile energy that’s barely tucked under the surface. He’s like gasoline, waiting for a spark to erupt so he can leave ashes in his wake.

I’m not sure whether I’m the spark or the ashes. Or both.

“How did you learn to whistle that way?” he asks as we stop at a red light.

He has his shirt’s sleeves rolled to his elbows and I can’t help gawking at his strong arms with veins and tendons rippling over his skin.

I shake my head from the distraction. ?

??Mum used to stop taxis that way and I picked up the habit.”

“Did she teach you any other cool tricks like that?” He flashes me a charming grin.

For the love of Vikings, can he stop doing that?

No wonder he has all the girls dropping their knickers — or to their knees — for him.

I like to think I’m above being charmed, but thinking back to how I melted in his arms, my case doesn’t look so good.

I stare through the window. “Mum taught me everything I know. My first sketch. My first bike ride. But most of all, she taught me not to kill my fire and to be myself.”

“She never thought you’d end up in this plastic world, did she?”

My head cocks his way. “How do you know I ended up in this world?”

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