Page 92 of Challenge Me

“I don’t want to do this.” His words rang out clear despite the emotions in his eyes.

“And I don’t believe you.”

“It’s . . . It’s not going to work. We’re not right for each other, okay?”

“If you want out, you’re going to have to walk your ass right out that door, not make pathetic attempts to push me away.”

“Why aren’t you mad right now?” he asked in a small voice.

“I am mad, but two things can be true at once.”

“What things?”

“You pissed me off. And I want you to stay.”

Something like a whimper left his lips. With exaggerated slowness, I cupped his face. This time, he moved in to kiss me. He dropped his backpack and wrapped his arms around my neck. Out of habit, I took him by the backs of the thighs and lifted him. Even though he was much heavier than Avery had ever been, I didn’t let him fall. His legs wrapped around me like he had no fear, and I decided that, no matter what it took, I had to make sure he felt like that every moment of every day.

For some reason, I didn’t want to set Remi down, so I carried him into the bathroom. He didn’t protest, even when I slammed him against the wall. In fact, he seemed turned on by it, judging by the way he moaned into my mouth.

“If you’re here to take a shit—”

“Shower,” I interrupted.

“No.” His mouth went to my neck, and he inhaled deeply. “You’re perfect like this.”

“Exactly what brand of crazy are you?”

“Maybe all of them.”

I ran my fingers through his hair. “Do you want to stay?”

“I suppose.”

“Let’s backtrack, actually, because I know you have a habit of freaking out, but there’s something I have to say first.”

“I didn’t freak out.”

“Mm, then I’ll just say it. I’m falling for you, and I’ve been doing it since the moment I walked into your bar and saw you behind that counter.”

As he stared at me, he drew in heavy breaths. When he dropped his feet to the floor, I thought he would run, so I tightened my grip on him.

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

“It’s . . .” His brow furrowed and his lips turned down. “Your touch is my salvation, trembling on the brink, a chalice brimming black with doubt and fire. I clutch it close, though every sip, I think, may spell the end of all that I desire.”

I tried to keep up, sorting the meaning inside the verses. “I won’t hurt you, Remi.”

“Every kiss is shadowed by a toll, a raven perched upon my heart’s decay. What warmth you hold may cost me all my soul, and still I’d beg the night it not delay.”

“Are you coming up with this on the spot?”

He shook his head.

“There’s no ticking clock,” I said. “No breaking up. I’m here if you’re here.”

His eyes closed, and his lip began to tremble. “Love be my torment or my last reprieve; just don’t be the ghost I wake to grieve.”

He surged forward, capturing my lips.