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“Shhh.” He kissed me again, then held my face in his hands and kissed my tears away. “Baby. It’s going to be okay.”
I nodded, biting down on my trembling lip. It wasn’t, not even close, but the way he was looking at me right then, like he really cared…like he saw me…I would’ve done anything to keep him looking at me that way.
And that was why I had to leave. Because I knew that hedidcare, and if I stayed, if we both let ourselves fall deeper, the hurt I’d cause when I broke him would be far, far worse.
“I need to leave.” Climbing off him, I gathered up my bag and coat. “I’m going to make my own way home—I’ll get a cab. I’ll talk to you on Sunday.”
He stopped me when I reached the door, coming up behind me and dipping his head to my ear. “Just so you know, you’re the first and last girl that I allow in here. And I won’t be going near the lower level of the crypts this weekend, so you don’t have to worry about that either.”
Fuck.
I had to get out of here.
Without another word, I slipped downstairs, unnoticed by the crowds, but I felt his gaze tracking me until I ascended the stairs and walked out of the door.
36
KNOX
Before I joined the party, I locked my bedroom door and then jogged upstairs, sending a text to my dad as soon as my phone signal returned.
Me:
Are you around this weekend?
After around ten minutes of hanging around the cellars with no reply, I made my way down to the others. Tristan waved me over, handing me a beer, then clinking his bottle against mine. “We did good today. Your goal was fucking epic.”
I grinned. “Yeah, it was. I hope they got it on camera.”
He snorted. “Freya was live-streaming the whole thing to her followers. Hit her up if you want it.”
“Fuck, no. I’m not going anywhere near that girl.”Or any other girl.
At my emphatic response, he raised his brows, opening his mouth to reply, but I was saved by Roman’s arrival. Tristan’s attention immediately turned to him, and I managed to sneak away from them both, although I was being trailed by two of the wannabe goddesses. I shot them a look that I hoped communicated that I very much wasn’t down to fuck this evening, then made my way up the stairs, taking the occasional swig from my beer.
My phone buzzed when I reached the top, and I pulled it from my pocket. There was a message waiting for me from my dad.
Dad:
Sorry, got held up in court. Look at the amount of paperwork I have to do
He’d sent me a photo that showed a huge pile of files teetering on the edge of his desk, a sheaf of papers fanned out in front of his hand, and his glasses resting next to a steaming mug of coffee.
Me:
Are you at your work office?
Dad:
Yes. Probably going to pull an all-nighter so it doesn’t eat into my weekend
Me:
If you want some company I can help
Dad:
Aren’t you celebrating your win?
