Page 101 of Trick Shot
"Jace, just stop..." I shake my head, backing up like it’ll help.
"No." One word. Sharp and slicing through the air. "Talk to me."
"Why are you doing this?" I snap, louder now. "I can’t take th—"
He’s in front of me before I even finish the sentence.
His chest brushes mine, barely but enough to make my breath stutter.
I open my mouth to stop him, but my voice falters when he lifts his arms. His palms plant on either side of my head, boxing me in. The warmth of his body seeps into mine, even with the few inches left between us.
He smells like his cologne mixed with my body wash.
"Why are you really pushing me away, Melody?"
My throat tightens and my eyes close.
"Because there’s someone else." The words crawl out of my mouth.
I hear his breath shift.
"I’ve been talking to someone else," I repeat, voice barely holding. "For months. And I’ve been lying to him, and I can’t..." I choke. "I can’t keep doing this with you."
My confession is met with silence. Dead silence.
I open my eyes and he’s still there, staring at me. Not angry, not hurt, just... watching me. His jaw isn’t tight, his eyes aren’t wild. He just looks at me like he’s waiting for a punchline.
What the hell?
"Did... did you hear what I said?" I ask, genuinely confused by his reaction.
"Mhm," he hums, still looking down at me.
"That’s it?" I blink, my heart slamming inside my chest.
He raises an eyebrow.
"I just told you I’ve been emotionally involved with someone else and you’re, what? Chill about it?"
"Were you hoping I’d throw a tantrum?"
"I was expecting something. You got all possessive over a joke Zed made, and now?" I wave at the space between us.
The same man who swore he’d break anyone who so much as looked at me is acting like I told him the forecast.
His eyes track mine. His hand moves slowly and he tucks a damp curl behind my ear, fingers grazing my cheek.
My body automatically leans into the touch like it belongs to him even though my mind is trying to fight it.
"Tell me," he murmurs. "What do you feel for him?"
I open my mouth, gaping at him. That’s not the question I was expecting.
"I... I don’t know how to answer that." I glance away, shame climbing up my throat like thorns.
He tilts his head. The damp heat of him seeps through my towel and burns straight into my skin.
"You do," he says, voice low. Dangerous. "I think you know exactly what you feel."
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