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“I shouldn’t have kept you out here so long,” Miles says, looking at my bare arms. “You must be cold.”
I should be cold, going from the heat of the crowded stables to the crisp, open air. But I’m not. I’m never cold around Miles—my heart is always beating too hard, blood thundering through my veins.
“Your cut is almost healed,” Miles says, gently touching the place next to my eye where Rocco dug his knife.
When Miles touches me, it ignites every nerve beneath his fingertips. That one part of my body becomes more sensitive than every other inch of skin combined.
I don’t think he means to kiss me.
But one hand on my face becomes two, and then he pulls me toward him, our lips coming together in one smooth movement. Miles’ lips are full and warm, firm and yet soft against mine. The kiss is gentle at first, and then it becomes deeper, his tongue sliding between my lips, caressing mine.
The taste of his mouth turns attraction into lust. My heart races so hard that it feels like one, continuous throb. I’ve thrown myself into his arms. We’re clinging to each other, kissing with a kind of desperation that feels wild and reckless and utterly addictive.
Kissing Miles is like dancing with him. We’re perfectly in sync. Time melts away. I can’t get enough of it, I can’t seem to stop. The wind buffets my paper wings, making a sound like a thousand whispers, lifting me slightly like I might fly away.
Slowly, I realize that we’re out in the open at the base of the Solar. Even in the darkness, anyone looking out their window might spot me in my white gown.
I break away from Miles.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
It was Miles who kissed me, but I shouldn’t have let him. It’s not only dangerous formeto break my contract with Rocco. If anything, it’s even more dangerous for Miles. The Princes could seek retribution.
“I did it,” Miles says, looking at me intently. “And I’m not sorry.”
“We can’t,” I say to him.
We both know we can’t, and yet I allowed myself to pretend otherwise. I enjoyed the fantasy that I could talk to a boy I liked,flirt with him, dance with him. I let myself experience the feeling of actually falling for someone, reveling in that sense of mutual attraction. I had never felt it before. It was intoxicating.
But now I’ve crossed the line. And it felt too good. So good that I’m terrified of what I’ll end up doing if I don’t stop now.
“I can’t see you anymore,” I say to Miles.
He’s looking at me, face impassive, not answering.
I can’t tell what he’s thinking. I can’t read Miles as well as he reads me.
“You’re going to see me tomorrow,” he says.
“I’m not.”
“You will,” he says. His gray eyes are brighter than ever, fixed on mine with an intensity I’ve never seen in Miles before. He acts like he doesn’t care about anything. But I always knew that couldn’t be true, because he’s the furthest thing from lazy. He’s always hustling, always working an angle.
I’m finally seeing what it looks like when Miles is chasing something he wants.
“I can’t kiss you anymore,” I say. “And I can’t be alone with you.”
“I’m not going to argue with you, Zoe,” Miles says, his eyes burning into mine. “I’m also not going to stop.”
Before I can say another word, he turns and strides away from me, across the dark grounds.
I’m staring after him, open-mouthed, my lips still throbbing where he kissed me.
11
MILES
Iwake up to Ozzy bursting into our room, his mohawk wildly disheveled and his clothes even worse, the sling missing off his arm and the gauze wrap filthy.
