Page 161 of Wicked Little Darling

I was barely processing what was happening right now, and there was a roaring in my ears that was getting louder and louder. “What…?”

He lowered his head, touched his lips to my ear and whispered, “I love you, darling.”

The shudder that went through my entire body was followed by a hitched breath, and then it felt like I’d hit the ground after falling ten stories. Disbelief and relief crashed into me with so much force that I couldn’t control my breathing.

“Fuck, you’re freaking out,” he murmured, brushing his hand through the longer hair on the top of my head as I had a complete breakdown.

My face crumpled and he gathered me in his arms, rolled onto his back, and dragged his hand down the back of my head in firm, soothing strokes.

It had been ten years since I’d heard those words. Ten years of thinking I’d go my entire life without ever hearing them again.

“Shh,” Dakota cooed in my ear, nuzzling his cheek against my head as I cried. I wrapped all my limbs around him and squeezed as hard as I could, needing him so much it felt like I might die if I ever let go.

He kissed my head. “I’ve been holding onto that for so fucking long. It was so hard not to tell you. And I wasn’t gonna tell you that right now, either, it just came out.”

I lifted my head, my lashes sticking together and feeling too heavy. “D-d-don’t say it,” I sobbed, barely able to get a breath in.

“That’s what she said,” he whispered, rubbing a hand down my back. “Also, now I’m hard again. Your tears are a potent aphrodisiac.”

I choked on a laugh and cried even harder becausegod-fucking-dammitif I didn’t love him too.

He was it for me.

He was everything.

He was my entire world—and the moon and the sun and the stars in the sky.

And for just a little while, I would be his.

Finding Jared was way easierthan I’d thought it would be.

All I had to do was ask someone in one of my classes about the “incident” from last spring. Everyone knew about it, apparently.

So in my music theory class, I got there ten minutes early and did something I never did—struck up a conversation with the person next to me.

She was a quiet girl who aced every test but never spoke up in class, so maybe not the best choice to try and converse with, but the guy who sat on my other side was kind of a dick and I didn’t feel like trying to engage with him.

I asked her about the homework assignment to start things off, then went from there. Her name was Victoria, her dad was some kind of famous tech CEO that I’d never heard of, and she was here to study music because she played the oboe.

She didn’t seem shy, just not particularly outgoing, so I carried most of the conversation along. After a few minutes, I nonchalantly brought up the incident from last spring.

She’d glanced around the room, like she was making sure there was no one here who’d participated or who’d overhear—I wasn’t sure what exactly she was worried about—and then leaned closer to me and told me that Dakota Voss had gone crazy on Jared Colt and broken his arm.

I asked her why he’d done that, and she said because he was crazy.

I hated that fucking word.

I tried not to let it show just how angry it made me, tried to laugh it off. I thought I did an excellent job of feigning interest and withholding the rage that was simmering in my veins.

I asked her more about Jared Colt, and she told me he was on the fencing team with Everett.

I said, “Wow, I hope he’s okay,” and then summarily dismissed her because I wasn’t sure I could hold myself back from shouting at her that Dakota wasn’t crazy, that she was crazy for believing such a stupid fucking story, and why didn’t anyone ever question things or try to get the perspective of the person who’d been accused?

I couldn’t focus during class at all, wanted to get up and move far away from her and her ignorance. I knew she wasn’t truly at fault, but damn if I wasn’t angry about people just believing all these lies. For perpetuating them without any kind of evidence other thanbecause that’swhat Everett said.

Fuck, I hated everyone.

She tried to talk to me again after class, but I said I was in a hurry and ran out of the room.