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In my class. Again. Sitting at the desk right by mine. My reaction might have been comical: saucer wide eyes, mouth gaping like a fish, frozen in place. Except every eye in the room now focused on me, awaiting a reaction, and every set of flapping lips murmured under cupped hands.

An exaggerated tut sounded from the front. “Miss Mason? Are you determined to disrupt the entire lesson? Take a seat. Now.”

Shaking myself out of my stupor, I swallowed hard and took the final three steps necessary to reach my desk. Reno didn’t look up, nor did he attempt to speak to me after I took my seat. I heard not one thing Mr. Stenson droned on about, instead I spent the duration of the lesson stealing discreet glances at Reno every few seconds. Okay, every other second. So, I had thought I was being discreet. As usual, I was wrong.

In one of the brief interludes between my staring sessions, a small wadded up ball of paper smacked the side of my face. Frowning, I palmed it, bringing it quickly onto my lap under the desk to open. And then I sucked in a breath, my cheeks heating. My eyes slid closed with embarrassment and my teeth clamped together. I refused to look at him. For a whole thirty seconds. Then I folded. Crossing my arms over each other on the desk, I dropped my head forward and turned to find eyes like melted chocolate honed in on me. But that wasn’t why my breath caught in my throat or why my pulse kicked up a notch… or ten. He was smirking. A half smirk, lacking some of his normal cockiness and vitality for sure, but it was there. My neck snapped back around. What the hell was going on? My fingers crushed the crumpled paper in my palm like it was a stress ball. I might not have a clue what was happening, but I knew that I wanted to wring his thick neck.

I jumped to my feet the second the bell rang, hastily stuffing my crap into my backpack, intent on making a speedy getaway. I didn’t think I was ready for… whatever this was. I had emotional whiplash from this guy. He couldn’t order me out of his life one minute, then kiss me and disappear on me the next, and then throw notes at my face and goddamn smirk at me. All with no explanation. He couldn’t because I didn’t know what the hell to do with that. My phone vibrated in my hand, drawing my gaze as I paced down the hall.

Liss: Running late. Prickman the douche is having his daily fucking meltdown! Get my usual pleeeeeease...

Mr. Pickman, universally known amongst the students as Prickman, was an adult-sized toddler. He’d throw a massive tantrum and hold the entire class hostage if some dickwad forgot their homework or undermined his authority. Which everyone did, all the time, because while it was irritating being held back, it was damn entertaining watching his pointed little ears turn red and spit balls shoot from his mouth. Attention diverted, my fingers tapping out a quick response, I wasn’t prepared to react when a hand gripped my elbow from behind, smoothly steering me from the stream of bodies and through a set of doors toward the stairwell. Hard body pressed to my side, Reno bent so his lips brushed my ear and his warm breath misted over my skin. I fought to control the tremor that shot through my body.

“We need to talk.”

He tucked me into an alcove under the stairs, releasing his hold on my arm and positioning himself opposite me with a chunk of distance between us. I sank back into the wall, needing its solid form for support. My mind was a hive of activity—feelings, thoughts and decisions buzzing around up there, butting into one another. I couldn’t decide what I was toward him in this moment. Part of me resented the way he’d treated me, and yet, I could understand his behavior. He’d hurt me, but he had his reasons. I sympathized with every one of them, but I wasn’t sure my heart could take any more of this hot and cold. I sighed, my lips pursing. I loved him. That’s what I felt. So I stood. And I waited.

His expression was slightly closed off, gaze roaming idly over the contours of my face, but it was softer, less guarded, than I’d seen it in a long while. Dragging it up to my eyes, he pocketed his hands.

“I’ve been doing some thinking the past few days,” he started, watching for my reaction. I didn’t know how to react, not yet. “I owe you an apology.” And there it was. My shock must have registered on my face because his chin dropped to his chest and he inhaled heavily, his face a mask of contrition. “I took shit out on you. You didn’t deserve that.”

My chest constricted. He took a step closer.

“I get why,” I croaked. Damn tears pricked at my eyes and my stupid throat swelled with emotion. Man, I was a wreck these days. I’d never cried so much in my life. I steeled my spine against the wall at my back, refusing to break down. My breath held as he inched forward.

He moved until the toes of his sneakers kissed mine. My neck craned to look up at him. Resting his forearm on the wall, he leaned over me, his warmth and smell invading my senses, making it difficult to think. His features were half in shadow, but there was a tenderness in his eyes that wove around my heart as he continued to stare silently down at me. My breath shuddered under his quiet scrutiny.

I blinked, swallowing. “You didn’t answer my question the other night,” I whispered, finding my voice, my heart fluttering behind my ribs like a bird’s wings.

“I know,” he murmured softly, never taking his eyes from mine.

“Are you going to?”

His fingers drifted toward my face, the backs of them tracing the side of my cheek. “What if I don’t have an answer?” I shifted my head to the side, breaking the contact, leaving his fingers hovering an inch from my skin. His eyes sought mine, narrowing in resignation. “Not good enough, huh?”

I couldn’t do this again... go round in circles. I loved him, I did, and I wanted to support him, but not as his emotional punching bag. I needed him to let me in, even a little.

“Give me something, Ren. Anything.”

Fear flared in his eyes, clear as day, and it struck me straight through the chest. He sighed, his hand coming

back to my face. I didn’t bother moving this time.

“What do I want from you?” He repeated my question from Friday night softly. I pulled my bottom lip in between my teeth. His head swayed from side to side a couple of times. “I miss you. Spending time with you, sparring with you. More than anything, Ri, I just fucking miss you.”

“But…?” I sensed it. I knew there was one.

His brow furrowed. “I can’t give you what I was offering before.” Palms flattening against the wall on either side of me, he lowered his head. I pressed my lips together, sucking in a breath. His nearness, like this, was overwhelming. “But I can’t keep you at arm’s length anymore either.”

“What are you saying, Ren?”

His stare was intense, tone gruff, but there was vulnerability there. This wasn’t easy for him, and my heart ached with the need to comfort him. “I need you in my life.”

“Okay.” Agreement. Just like that. Air burst from my lungs in relief. He’d offered me a doorway back into his life. It was all I’d been asking for. I could work with that.

His brow pinched, muted surprise settling over his features. “I don’t even know what I’m asking you for.”

I bit my lip to stop it curving into a smile. “I know.”

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