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“Why?” she whispers. “Was it all a game to you?”
I shake my head. No, she was never a game.
“You aren’t a game, Hazel. You never were. I just… I didn’t know what I wanted.”
Her body slackens, sadness seeping into her bones. “You mean, you didn’t know if you wanted me?”
My fingers around her neck tighten, and I breathe in her delectable scent, witchy and earthy, and something I’d never tire of. “I didn’t know if it was right. I didn’t want to make things worse.”
Her brows furrow. “What about what I want?”
“Your blood is the same as mine, do you realize that?” I growl, bringing up the most fucked-up part about our relationship.
Her fingers go up to mine, and she pulls them away from her neck, leaning forward until her nose brushes mine. “I. Don’t. Care.”
I know she doesn’t, and that’s why I gravitate toward her. Because she does what she wants. She knows what she wants.
“I just had to see if you were alive, because clearly if you cared about me, if it was what I thought, you would’ve been there for me, right? Just like everyone else. But you weren’t… you were nowhere to be found. So, I thought for sure something happened to you. You were sick, or hurt, or working. But Malik says you haven’t been to work. And I come here to see if you’re okay, and you look fine. You look better than fine. So that leads me to believe you just don’t give a shit about me. At all. That you never have. I guess that’s all I needed to know.”
She shakes her head, and a tear slips free. Her hand skates down, and she wraps her fingers around the door. I grab her wrist, pulling it away and lacing my fingers through hers. Slamming her hand against the door, I lean into her. My other hand goes to her cheek, and I brush away the stray tear.
“Giving a shit about you is the last thing I feel. I never went home. I slept in a fucking chair that was more uncomfortable than a pile of glass. My body went numb, and my fucking bones ached, but I never left. I was there, at your side. Standing outside the OR during your surgery, watching you through the window as you were in recovery. Not leaving your fucking bedside through it all. The moment you woke up, and I saw the absolute relief in your eyes as you looked at me, it fucking scared me. Terrified me. Because I felt that same relief too. So, I left, but I didn’t go far, Hazel. I stayed by, watching you, making sure you’re okay. I never left you, Hazel, even though I wasn’t at your bedside. Not once.” I say the words right in her face, giving her every ounce of emotion that’s only reserved for her.
She shudders beneath me, her eyes flaring. Every exhale from me, she inhales, and vice versa. We give life to each other while also taking it away. I never want it to end.
“I never left, Hazel, and fucking hell, you’re never going to make me,” I rasp. Her hands shake free from my hold, and she drops them forward, her fingers threading in my hair.
“What are you trying to say?” she whispers.
“I’m telling you that whether or not you like it, whether or not you want it, you’re mine, little witch, and I’m not fucking letting you go.”
“Even though I’m a witch?” she breathes, her body melting against mine.
Being a Wiccan is what makes Hazel, Hazel. “Especially because you’re a witch,” I growl, and then I’m done talking, done contemplating our future, because to me, it’s been solidified since the moment I met her, it’s just taken a while for me to realize it.
Her hands automatically wrap around my neck, and I swoop her up by the waist, hauling her into my arms as I spin around, making my way up the stairs. I stare her in the eyes, those gemstones that make me a weaker man. I watch as she opens her mouth, her tongue poking out to wet her lower lip, and I can’t wait another second. I dive in, my lips catching her tongue, fighting against hers as I demolish her mouth.
I nip and lick at her lips, wrapping my fingers around her slender back, digging my fingers into her spine, wanting to meld myself to every bone and curve of her body. I don’t want it to end. I never want it to end.
Once I make my way to my bed, I bend over my mattress as I lay her gently on the bed. I stay with her, my fingers burrowing into her hair. She stares up at me, her cheeks rosy, her eyes hazy with lust as her finger dips, tracing the outline of my face.
“I never knew my favorite enemy might become my favorite person.”
My heart leaps in my chest, and I bring my hand to hers, gripping her fingers tightly as I pull them above her head.
“We aren’t enemies anymore, Hazel,” I rasp against her lips.
“What are we?” she whispers.
I pull her bottom lip between mine, scraping my teeth along her sensitive skin. Leaning back, I bring my fingers to her moist lips, caressing the skin indented with my teeth marks. “We’re so much more, Hazel. We are everything,” I tell her, and I mean it.
Every word.
Three months later
Istand in the woods in the middle of the night, my heart pounding in my chest as I watch Felix walk out of the back of his house. He steps around the pool, his jaw clenching as he approaches me in all black. His dark hair is slicked back, making his sharp jaw stand out even more than usual. The hoodie covering his chest molds to his body, his hands tucked in the front pockets. The black joggers are slender around his thighs, falling down to his black shoes.
He’s so damn sexy, and he’s also angry as fuck.
