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“You’re a married man.”
“You’ve fucked plenty of married men.”
“That’s true, but…”
“I’ve told you countless times I’d never get married, and yet here I am—married.”
She nods. “That’s part of it.”
“And if I got divorced, would that change your mind?”
She stops breathing, as do I. “No, we have too much history. I would never want to give you the pleasure of thinking I was yours, even for a night.”
Our eyes lock back in our endless battle.
“What would it take?”
“There is nothing that you could give that would make me yours.”
I pause at her painful words. Then, I say the only thing that might save me. “Liar.”
Her eyes cut back to me, and I grab her hand, yanking her to me until she’s pressed against me. “What would it take?”
“More than you are willing to give.” And then she presses her lips against mine, most likely to shut me up and end the conversation. But I’ll take any kisses she’s willing to give, even if she’s trying to trick me again.
The kiss is intoxicating, as are all her kisses. I’m so consumed that I almost don’t hear the window opening until it’s too late, but I hear just in time.
I keep kissing her, ensuring that she can’t play my savior. Then, at the very last second, I turn her and take the dart meant for her.
Her eyes widen, and she yanks the dart out of my back as soon as she realizes what I did. She tries to stare up to get a look at the shooter, but I block her. I only have seconds left until I fall unconscious.
“Stay beneath me. Don’t let them shoot you, promise me.”
I start to fall toward her, and she does her best to catch me. My body is still shielding her.
“I promise,” she whispers as we collapse to the floor, with my body covering her.
“What if I told you I love you? That I’ve always loved you? Would that be enough to make you mine?” I say, as my eyelids grow heavy.
I never hear her response before the world goes black.
18
Liesel
What if I told you I love you?
Langston’s words are all I can think about as he collapses on top of me. I should be focused on avoiding any more darts coming my way, but I’m entranced with Langston’s words. I wish he could wake up and continue our conversation. There are more pressing issues, though.
Still…
What if Langston did love me? Would that make any difference?
No, it would make things worse.
I glance up just as another dart is sent down toward my chest. I move Langston’s arm at the last second, so it enters him instead of me. Rolling his arm so that I can pull the dart out and lay it against my chest, I hope they’ll think the dart hit me instead of Langston.
I look up at Langston one last time before I pretend to pass out, and I can’t help but brush my lips against his. He doesn’t kiss me back, but it doesn’t matter. I like the soft touch and smell of him. I like being able to appreciate his body without worrying about how he interprets it.
