to fuck with me. The same guy who cornered me in the library and threatened me.
“Don’t dwell too hard on your internal thoughts, Palmer. They’ll only lead you astray.”
“What do you think I should do then?” I ask.
“I don’t know shit, but one thing I do know is you try really hard to be perfect. Never a hair out of place. Clothes perfectly pressed. You act the way you believe the world needs you to, but I know different. There’s a siren inside of you, constantly blaring to be heard.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I stare out the window into the darkness of the night.
“The way you hissed in a breath when I touched you here in class.” He runs a finger along the inside of my thigh, gaining my complete attention. “The moment you leaned into me in the parking garage. You aren’t made of glass, not all of you at least, so maybe you should get to living.”
“You don’t know anything about me.” I close my legs on his hand, and he pulls back, turning down the winding road leading to the glass house.
“You’re right, but I do know myself.” He parks behind a large black SUV, turns off the car, and shifts in his seat to address me. “Don’t let me in, Palmer. You’re going to want to, I can promise you that, but all I’ll end up doing is hurting you.”
Marek opens the car door, leaving me with far too much to think about.
Don’t let me in, Palmer. Those words are like a broken record in my head, repeating over and over until it’s almost unbearable.
Rain starts to fall in a diagonal line. I listen to the pattering on the window for an unknown amount of time. The house is illuminated from the inside out, lights shining through the large glass windows that seem to make up the entire house. I’ve never been up the hill before, only privy to the view from the bottom. How different their world appears from up here. Where we are old world romance, they’re sharp and untouchable.
Suddenly, the passenger door flings open, and I’m dragged outside of the car. Byron’s hand wraps around my wrist so tight, I have no choice but to follow him. He doesn’t stop tugging until I’m hauled through the front door and the living room.
“Where’s Delaney?” I ask, resisting Byron’s touch to no avail.
“She’s sleeping in Breaker’s room. She’s safe. He’s already made himself a spot on the couch in there, so no worries,” Byron explains, not giving me a chance to take a deep breath or check out my surroundings.
My mind wanders to Marek, curious as to where he is. He left me in Delaney’s car, no explanation to his odd behavior, like I did something to piss him off. If anyone should be upset, it’s me.
Byron marches us to his bedroom and tosses me on his bed. I expect to see smoke coming from the carpet with the way he’s pacing back and forth. Several times, I open my mouth to say something, to keep him from creating more nervous energy, but something stops me.
Byron finally stops. “What did you say to him?”
“I didn’t say anything.” I shake my head, rethinking every word Marek and I’ve exchanged tonight. Angered by the accusation, I stand, forcing Byron and me chest-to-chest. “I sort of resent the way you’re speaking to me right now.”
His perfect lips part, but I’m not met with any words. Byron stares at me, almost with a hint of awe.
“What?” I bark, straightening the lines of my shoulders. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I didn’t understand it until right now.” He nods, lost inside his own thoughts.
“Understand what?” I take a step back.
Byron wraps one of his arms around my waist and tugs our bodies flush together. “Why Marek is desperate to play.”
“Play what?” I push out with a breath.
“With you.” His finger skims through my wet hair and down the left side of my face.
I don’t flinch. Not a single inch of me moves, allowing him to descend to my collarbone, tickling the skin. His brown eyes burrow into my soul, taking every little bit of me he wants. Like I’ve forgotten everything he’s ever said and done, I melt into him. There’s something some men are capable of without much effort, and Byron has it, much like Marek. The ability to make you hungry for them, without even trying, is a talent.