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My lungs fill in response to her command, and I let the air out slowly. So much sweetness. It’s like she’s covered in icing.
I want to make her melt.
My jaw locks. I am keenly aware when her fingers skim to my elbow, and her head rests against my shoulder. It’s such a mundane action, but it’s too intimate for my brain to follow.
In my entire life, no one has ever gotten this close in order to be gentle with me before.
It takes everything to stop myself from reciprocating the affection, placing her on a pedestal, and thanking her on my knees for…what?
Daring to touch me without causing me pain?
Something in my head won’t stop panicking, like pain is yet to come.
My fingers flex around the wheel before I grip it tighter.
Briar whispers a curse as she traces a tickling fingertip against the back of my hand. “You’re stronger and more capable than you’ve ever been allowed to believe. Process whatever you need to. I’m not going anywhere until we’ve gotten to the bottom of the Maxim Project.”
And then what?
After we get to the bottom of the Maxim Project, find her parents, and put mine in a place where I can keep tabs on them—then what?
This whole façade crumbles, and she goes back to her territory as though none of this ever happened?
Her lips curl, feline. “Missing me already, pet?”
“Not your pet, princess.”
“It’s okay. This is a safe space. You can be honest.” Her index finger traces mine, and I pull my hand out of her grasp. Every line of my skin that she touched tingles, raw.
If I’ve learned anything, nowhere is safe. I can’t trust whatever it is she’s doing to me, not while it inhibits my control. Not while it tempts me to turn into everything I despise.
“You really want me to be honest?” I mutter as I check my mirrors.
“Of course. Honesty is the best policy.” She brightens, ecstatic. “Another line for your series of motivational posters.”
Pity I’m all out of wall space.
Cutting her a glance, I deadpan. “I can’t stop thinking about kissing you. Everything tastes like your mouth—every breath I’ve taken for the past—” I curse. “—day and a half smells like you. We shouldn’t be alone like this, because I pride myself in not being a monster, but the things I can’t get out of my head…” My mouth goes dry, and I swipe a hand down my face, fixing my attention firmly on the asphalt in front of the car, speeding by. I clench my jaw. “They’re terrible.”
“Terrible?” she echoes, voice barely above a whisper.
“I like facts and figures.”
Breathless, she says, “You want to make a spreadsheet together?”
My heart twists and turns over because she’s not allowed to sound like that when she’s making such a stupid joke.
“I want to experiment on the shape of you until I know every motion you are capable of, until I understand the reason behind this desire, until I’m not so—” I swear. “—pissed at my own ignorance.” I pull into a parking spot far from where the entry gate boasts too many bright colors. It hardly registers that we’ve arrived until the engine hums to a stop. Turning, I face Briar, cup her chin in my hand, and watch her breath catch. “You are an enigma. The unknown drives me mad. Uncertainty makes me violent. I want to dissect you.”
Warmth floods her cheeks, and her pink lips part. Eyes wide, she watches me, flushed.
I want to chart the shade of her skin, catalog it, keep it. Paint rooms with it. Drown in it.
“Toying with me is like playing with fire in a paper house,” I mutter. “I have no experience handling the feelings you invoke. I pride myself in not being a monster, but the only thoughts I’ve had since your lips were on mine have been monstrous.”
Her eyes crease with something too close to pity for comfort. “Does it ever get exhausting?”
“Does what?”
