her trademark look—the one that drains me of all strength and makes me want to give her anything she wants. I’m too weak. I turn toward the stage, where the music begins, and try to regain my momentum, but she keeps talking, moving closer.
“I know it’s risky to see each other, but we could talk on the phone when your father’s not around. If you want.”
If I want. She has no clue how much I want. But I can’t simply have a tiny slice of Anna. I’m no masochist. It has to be all or nothing, and “all” would ensure the death of us both.
“That’s not a good idea,” I say.
Even now, since we’ve been standing here together, I’ve not once looked around for whisperers. She turns me into a single-minded idiot every time.
I turn from the stage toward a group of loud people behind us, but I can’t concentrate on a damn thing.
“I think about our trip all the time,” she whispers, her words sinking into my bones. “Do you ever think about it?”
Every day.
“Sometimes.”
With a feminine grunt of frustration, Anna grabs hold of the front of my costume with her little fists, shocking me. I look anywhere but at her.
“Why did you invite Jay to this party?” she demands.
To see if you still love me. But I won’t let her pry my feelings from me. It’ll only make things harder. Ironically, isn’t that what I’m trying to do, as well? Find out if she loves me so it can be difficult, all over again?
“I don’t know,” I grind out. Who am I kidding? I am a complete masochist seeking out pain, and a sadist as well, the way I keep hurting her.
She pulls harder on my costume, and the amount of passion in her tiny form fills my body with a buzzing need.
Her voice quavers. “I can’t keep living like this, Kai. I need to know how you feel. I need to know one way or another so I can have some sort of closure.”
It’s clear she still cares, but she doesn’t want to. I have to stop doing this to us. I have to stop thinking about her, and make her stop thinking about me, no matter how it hurts.
“I thought you’d be over it by now,” I say harshly, making the mistake of looking down into her eyes, lively even in the darkness.
“It doesn’t work like that,” she says.
I stare down at her in desperation. I need to burn this bridge—to deceive her into believing I don’t give a shit. But haven’t I tried that already? Hasn’t she seen through me like no one else ever has? Damn her see-the-best-in-people ways.
Smoke from a nearby bonfire blows over us.
“Don’t invite Jay to any more parties, Kaidan. If there’s even the slightest chance you’ll be there, I’m not going. It hurts too much to see you.”
Even when she’s being tough, she’s too sweet, grabbing me by the heartstrings and twisting.
“So why did you come?” I ask.
Her green face bears an expression of sad turmoil. Reaching up, she pulls off the tangled black wig and I feel like the wind had been knocked from my lungs. Her long, natural, honey-colored hair is gone, replaced by bright blond streaks and a sexy chopped style. A wave of sadness and loss rocks through me. She’s had to change. With or without me in her life, she is a Neph, and there is no escaping it.
I gather my strength and say, “You should go then.”
Don’t go. Don’t bloody leave me. Throw your arms around me. I don’t care if you smear my face with paint, Anna. Tell me you love me. Show me you still want me. Torture me a bit more. Oh, God . . . she’s walking away from me. Just as she’d done at LAX.
I should let her go, but I’m shaken.
“Wait,” I shout.
She doesn’t stop. My pulse rockets into overtime. I push past people and run forward, wrapping my hand around her tiny wrist and spinning her to face me.
Fuck! How can she turn away like that? I yank her closer, fully aware I’m acting like an absolute psycho, but I’m too weak to do what needs to be done. She is mine. Doesn’t she know that? Because my body and soul are screaming it—demanding me to make her mine in every way.
Her eyes stare up at me with a mix of fear and hope, reminding me what an arsewipe I am to keep doing this to her.