Page 61 of Cruel Hearts

“The stones on this side of the building have decent footholds.” He stretched his arm across the gap and gripped the window sill.

“This isn’t Romeo and Juliet, you idiot.”

“What can I say.” His healing face twisted into a crooked smile. “Damsels in distress make me want to be a better man.”

Warmth spread through my heart, thawing out the crevices of lingering resentment. It even engulfed the part of me that wondered why he had let me get arrested at the end of last term. I still wouldn’t trust Maxwell out of principle, but he scored major brownie points for this stunt.

With the hand not holding onto the sill, he wedged the window open several more inches. Relief crossed Maxwell’s features, and I stepped aside to let him through the gap I’d made in the window.

Then he shimmied inside, a spectacle of muscles straining through the woolen fabric of his school uniform, stretched up and grinned at me as though expecting a round of applause.

Tossing my head, I feigned interest in the charter. “That was dangerous.”

He wedged the window closed, shutting off the cold air. “I needed to see you.”

“Before the police took me away for assault?”

Maxwell looked away. “You don’t know that.”

“Knowing Elizabeth, she’s found a way to exaggerate her injuries.” Peering up at Maxwell, I rubbed the back of my throbbing head and added, “It was also a hard blow to the face.”

Maxwell placed his large hands on my shoulders. “What happened?”

I shook my head. “It sounds so juvenile.”

“We are still teenagers, you know.”

A harsh laugh stuck in the back of my throat. I’d spent a lifetime worried about my own survival. If it wasn’t Billy Hancock and his violent rages, it was wondering how I would survive foster care unscathed. Shit like that could age a girl’s mind.

“What’s wrong?” asked Maxwell.

“Sometimes I forget I’m only seventeen.”

He wrapped his strong arms around my shoulders and pressed a kiss into the side of my head. It was nice, but I needed more. If this was the last time I would see him and the academy, I wanted our final memory to be something nice instead of our last encounter at the doorstep when I’d been ungrateful about his Christmas gift.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and ran my fingers through the curling down at the nape of his neck. “Why don’t you give me a proper kiss?”

“Do you mean that?”

“I want something nice before everything goes to shit.”

Leaning down, he gave me the barest of pecks on the lips. “You think I’m a good kisser, then?”

I huffed out a laugh. “You’re male, you have a pair of lips, and you’re the only other person in the room. That makes you the best kisser around.”

He paused. This was so unlike Maxwell, who wasn’t afraid to take what he wanted, even if that meant executing a long con where he pretended to be his brother. His gray eyes searched my soul, perhaps looking for signs that I really meant what I had said about wanting to kiss him.

I raised my brows. “Are you having trouble performing?”

“Something tells me this is just a stalemate.”

“Meaning?” I threaded my hair in his mahogany locks.

“At some point in the future when I’m least expecting it, you’ll stab me in the back?”

Amusement rippled through my belly, making my lips spread into a grin. “Is that a problem?”

A pained look crossed his features. “If you want to kick me in the balls or something, I’ll take it now without complaint.” He pressed a kiss on my forehead. “But please don’t make amends only to double-cross me later.”