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Her eyes widen. “B-bad things like what?”

I lift my head and wrap a hand around her nape. “Like this.”

My lips meet hers and I feast on her the way I’ve always wanted.

I embrace the temptation I’ve always run away from.

16

Kimberly

Kissing has always been a fantasy for me. That consuming passion, that need for more.

I blame romance books for this, by the way.

That day at Ronan's party, I thought I knew what kissing is like. A bit of passion, a bit of force, a lot of heartbreak.

Now, a different type of emotion seeps into me as Xander takes possession of my mouth.

Desperation.

That’s the right word. It’s the only emotion that whirls through me, and it does so with wrecking force.

I let him kiss me like it’s our first and last kiss together. I don’t care if we never get anything after this, as long as he kisses me with this desperation and the need to own me, be with me.

He tastes of vodka and mint, a strong mix that hits me straight in the chest. I inhale him deeply and don’t dare to exhale, afraid it will end the moment and we’ll go back to our separate worlds as if we were never meant to be.

When Mari told me the monkey, Kir, came here to spend the night, I might have cursed my little brother.

After the text Xander sent me, blatantly pushing me away once more, I was ready for my comfort K-dramas and my moody playlist.

The thought of confronting him made me want to cry, but I’ve tried so hard not to cry all this time, so I won’t be doing it now.

The fog becomes stronger when I cry, and he’s been feeding it non-stop for years.

Ahmed welcomed me in, saying Kir was asleep. I considered waking him up, but I couldn’t disturb him. Besides, as soon as I was in the guest room Kir was in, Cole and Aiden came knocking at the door. They said Xander was in trouble.

I didn’t think when I ran here, when I pushed the door and walked inside with wobbly legs. He was sleeping upside down on the bed, his head lolling over the side and his hand bandaged, covered with dry blood and dangling from the edge.

The first thing I did was check his pulse. I was going to leave once I made sure he was alive, I really was. But one touch of his hair turned into two, and before I knew it, I was sitting on his bed and then he opened his eyes and called me Green, and I kind of lost it.

I’m losing it right now.

Because I know by experience that his kisses, his slight moments of closeness, only have heartbreak tied to them. If he freed me of our twelve years’ promise after the first kiss, what is he going to do now? Demand I sell my soul to the devil? Make me watch as he stomps all over my heart?

I place two hands on his strong shoulders and shove him away. His lips leave mine with a whimper – from my side, not his. Why the hell am I mourning his loss when I never had him in the first place?

“Xander, I –”

“Shh.” He places an index finger on my lips, which are hot and tingly because of him. “Don’t ruin it.”

I push his hand away, careful not to hurt his injury, and take another deep inhale, then regret it because all I breathe is him. “You’re the one who ruins everything.”

“No, you did.” His eyes are half-droopy, and his face is so pained, it’s like being shot at and not having the ability to die.

“I did?” I repeat.

“If you didn’t take me there, if you…” he trails off and shakes his head. “But it doesn’t matter now. Let me kiss you.”

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