Page 50 of Escaping Hallow Hill Academy

And what in the ever-cock-loving fuck is wrong with me?

“What?” I finally have the good sense to ask. Just harsh enough to cover my breathlessness.

Almost.

I glare up at him. He gently stares down at me. It’s a standoff of wits and wills, and I will not bow to him.

He’s known that from day fucking one.

Whatever his angle is, it’s not going to break me. I. Won’t. Break.

His long fingers lift, and he trails along a strand of my inky hair so delicately, it barely even moves against his fingertips.

I don’t know why my breath catches when he does that.

Why? Why? Why?

I may never understand the energy that courses between us when we’re near.

“Let me hold you,” he finally whispers. He says it like a question and a demand all at the same time.

He’s not the brooding asshole in this moment.

He’s comforting.

It all slams through my chest like sirens and alarms.

This isn’t who he and I are. We’re not companions.

We’re the last two Sekars in the world.

And we’ll always hate each other.

“No,” I spit out.

“Emmera . . .” Searching silver eyes hold mine, and his fingers are still held between the locks of my hair, not caressing, not touching, not moving a centimeter forward until I say so.

And I won't. I won't say so.

He’s a tool bag. A total fuckhole.

Fuck him.

“Emmera, do you want me right now?”

The silence that presses after his words is a slicing knife that I feel in my chest.

In my lungs.

In my soul.

And then I do break.

“Yes.” The word barely breathes out on a hush of a sound.

But he hears it. I know he does.

Because every part of him breaks for every part of me that’s already broken. His dark eyebrows tense with compassion I never knew he was capable of. His lips part with a shaking sigh. And the strongest arms wrap ever so slowly around me.