Page 65 of Split or Swallow

Finally, he leaned away, considering her.

“Well, when you put it that way, perhaps not.”

Tem rolled her eyes.

“Exactly.”

Neither of them spoke as they wound their way back through the maze. Eventually the castle loomed into view. They were nearly on the patio when Leo spoke again:

“Aren’t you curious to know how I feel about you?”

“I think I can guess.”

“Can you?” Leo looked down at her. “Then by all means, Tem,” he splayed his hands open. “Guess.”

Tem looked up into his gray eyes, deciding how much she wanted to say. It was a delicate subject, and if she didn’t tread carefully, she might offend him. Then again, nothing seemed to offend Leo. It was almost as if he enjoyed her insults. Tem wondered if she was the only person in his life who didn’t completely cater to his every want and need. If that was the case, it put her in a position of power, and she savored it.

“I think I confuse you.”

Leo raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

“I think you like me, but you don’t know why. You want me, but you wish you didn’t. You’re used to getting what you want, but part of you likes that you can’t get me.”

His other eyebrow rose.

“Can’t I?”

“No,” Tem said firmly. “Not until you’ve earned me.”

His eyes flicked down her body, then back up again.

“And you think you’re worth earning?”

Tem held his gaze.

“You think I’m worth earning.”

“Hm,” he said, the corner of his mouth turned up in amusement. For a moment, they simply stared at each other, and Tem wondered if this was how Leo act⁠ed with the other girls. It felt as if they were connecting on an unexpected level—one Tem could never have anticipated, and one she didn’t fully understand.

It was only when they reentered the castle that Tem realized the date was about to end. When they reached the foyer, Leo turned to face her.

“I’m not going to kiss you,” he said.

Tem was too shocked to react properly.

“Why not?”

He stepped closer.

“Because if I kiss you, I’ll try to take you upstairs. And you’re not going to let me.”

Tem opened her mouth but he kept talking:

“And you were right. I’m not used to hearing the word ‘no’. And I don’t want to hear it from you. Certainly not after I had to see you in this dress—” he brushed his fingertips along her waist so lightly she almost didn’t notice until it was over, “—all fucking evening.”

“You chose it,” she whispered.

“Apparently I’m partial to torture.”