Page 21 of Wicked Brutal

“Then why—“

“Because he was watching the hallway instead of walking through it,” Ryan says, and of course he noticed that. “I needed him to see me dismiss you.”

“I know.”

“Still hurt.” It isn’t a question, and I hate that he knows. I look down at my tea. “A little,” I admit.

“Fuck.” His hand slides to the back of my neck. “I’m sorry.”

“You can’t apologize every time.”

“I can.”

“We agreed.”

“I know what we agreed.”

“So don’t make yourself crazy over it.”

His jaw flexes. “I’m working on that.”

“Poorly.”

“Extremely.” I look up, and his eyes are genuinely miserable, and that softens the last of the sting. “I called you an asshole after,” I tell him.

His mouth curves. “Good.”

“Penny agreed and Xander didn’t defend you.”

“Betrayal.”

“Nobody likes you.”

“You like me.”

I take another sip. “Debatable.”

He kisses me. Quick — just enough to steal the smile I was trying to hide. Then he kisses me again, slower this time, his hand staying at my neck while the other settles at my waist, and the whole day falls away in inches. The hallway. Penny. The watching man. The yogurt. For ten seconds I get to be kissed by my boyfriend in the middle of Edgewood Prep. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine. “Better?”

“Maybe.”

“Need more data?”

“Probably.”

He kisses me again, and I laugh against his mouth. “There she is,” he murmurs.

“Shut up.”

His hand moves from my waist to my stomach without thinking about it, and we both notice, and neither of us says anything for a second. The curve under my shirt is still small. He knows exactly where it is anyway. Then he crouches, and I immediately narrow my eyes. “No.”

He looks up. “What?”

“Don’t start.”

“I haven’t said anything.”

“Your face.”