Page 91 of Striking Range

I’m so in love with you, I think to myself, and I think it must show on the shit-eating grin I’m now sporting, because Everett’s stern glare softens. His lips tilt upward, just slightly, as his brows relax.

“He certainly loves looking at you,” Kelly mutters into my ear.

My grin grows, and I lean back against her on unstable legs. “You think so? Can you tell?”

“I can definitely tell,’’ she assures me. “He doesn’t like it very much when others do it, though.”

How wonderful! Everett can be jealous in so many ways—I’ve seen it. But hearing from an outside source that he’s obvious with his jealousy? Hot, hot, hot!

“Oh, and here he comes. I guess I had my hands on you for too long.” Kelly’s voice is light and full of humor, but I pay her no mind as Everett draws nearer.

He looks devastatingly handsome in this moment, with his fae costume and his hungry eyes. I’m almost nervous as to what I might do to him once he reaches me, even with all of these people around.

“Oh, god,” I mutter, watching as he pushes through the crowd, anticipating his voice and his energy.

“You two are so obvious,” Kelly whispers, finally releasing my shoulders.

And then suddenly Everett is before me, staring down at me like some kind of twisted Prince Charming. I can tell that he’s trying not to smile, which I find odd.

Oh, that’s right. He’s supposed to be mad at me.

“Evie,” I greet. “Are you still pouting?”

A single eyebrow raises, lifting to hover below his perfect blond hair. “I thought you were supposed to be nice to me when you’re dressed like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like a puppy.”

I flush, feeling the heat travel down my throat and into the collar of my white crewneck sweater. Visions of us tangled beneath my sheets, his voice in my ear, cloud my brain. I really want to touch him.

But I have some common sense, and as his hand reaches for me, I clumsily side-step it.

“You should know me better,” I chastise, and even while drunk, I can see the hurt in his eyes.

Everett leans in, not quite touching me but close enough to not be heard by anyone else over the bumping of the music. “What I know is that under all this sass and defiance, you are such a submissive, sweet boy.”

Excuse me!? He’s going to say this right here and now? While I cannot touch him or come up with a witty, sarcastic response? Oh, he’s in for it!

“Everett,” I scold sternly, “you are being bad. A very bad, cruel man.”

A small smirk forms over his lips as he replies, “You would know plenty about being cruel and bad, wouldn’t you?”

Some distant, sleeping part of me wakes—and in its resurrection is fear and sorrow. Truthfully, Evie has no idea just how cruel and bad I can be. Would he still love me if he knew? If he saw what I have done?

I am uncomfortable with how close he is to understanding—with the line he skirts so carelessly, all the while I am petrified of him seeing what lies on the other side.

So I turn away from him, unwilling to let him cross over to this side of that truth. Kelly is standing a single step away, eyeing us curiously.

“Should we dance some more?” I ask her, stumbling forward.

She catches me, sending a weary glance over my shoulder. “Of course. Everett, do you want to… Okay. Never mind.”

I peer behind me, watching Evie’s retreating form as he disappears into the crowd.

The car is vibrating, jostling my core in a way that has me nauseous.

“Slow down,” I groan, leaning forward in the passenger seat.