Page 84 of Stealing Infinity (Stolen Beauty)

“Oh really?” I make a wide gesture around a room that looks as though it was made for exactly the sort of things we just did.

A sudden flush fills Braxton’s cheeks. “Hey, I’m not saying I’m sorry it happened.” His mouth quirks at the side as he rubs a nervous hand across his jaw. “But I get that it’s moved really fast. Or at least it has for you.”

“Just me?” I ask, confused.

“I’ve had the advantage of knowing you longer.” He shrugs. “It’s my job to familiarize myself with our recruits, so I kinda had no choice but to get to know you. As soon as I read your file, I was intrigued to know more.”

He stands before me, his top teeth sinking into his bottom lip. He’s made himself vulnerable, put it right out there, letting me know he liked me well before he even approached me at Arcana.

Which means he also liked me when I was giving him shit in the diner.

And later when I was giving him shit in my room.

And then even later when I was giving him even more shit during the tour of the school, and again when he sat across from me at dinner, and…

He’s liked me thisentiretime. He let me dump all over him, which, granted, he totally deserved, but I…

While it’s nice to know he fell for the paper version of me long before he actually met the real-life version of me, I’m starting to think my initial instincts were right—the two of us kissing was not my best plan. Because if my limited experience has taught me anything, it’s that boyfriends burn out pretty fast, while a good friend is in it for the duration.

And more than anything, I could really use a good friend around here.

When I lift my face to his, determined to find a way to relay all of that, Mozart pipes up again. Braxton takes hold of my hand, and he hurries me out the door.

“I’m beginning to really hate Mozart,” I say, rushing alongside him.

“Just wait until you meet him,” Braxton replies, and even after I turn to study his face, it’s impossible to tell if he’s joking. We’ve just stepped into the elevator when he says, “Hey—where’s your tablet?”

It takes me a moment to remember what I did with it. “I think I left it back in my room.”

“Try not to do that,” he says, his expression more serious than I would’ve expected. “If something were to happen, they could use it to find you.”

“What could possibly happen here—in this gilded cage?” I race to keep up as the elevator doors slide open and he grasps my hand and leads me back to my room.

“Nothing,” he says, his voice shaded, his accent lilting in a way that leaves me convinced he’s holding something back. “Just a precaution, that’s all.”

When we reach the end of my hall, “Requiem” begins to play again. It’s now ten o’clock. Soon the lights will go out.

“You should head back to your room,” I say, realizing just after I’ve said it that I have no idea where that is. There’s so much I don’t know about him.

“Good night,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek.

Then he races for his room and I make for mine.

I’ve just reached my door when the lights click off—and someone shoves a bag over my head.