Page 118 of Snitches and Serpents

A yelp slips past my lips as someone grabs me by the arm and yanks me into the alley. I let out a huff as my back connects with the brick wall behind me. A pair of hands appear on the wall on either side of my head, caging me in.

Tilting my head back, I stare up into the dangerously handsome face of Tristan Kane.

My heart skips a beat.

Last time I saw him, he told me that he was going to kill me. And now…

My pulse thrums as we stare at each other.

Crackling silence hangs like a death shroud over the alley.

Pain and regret flash across his face.

I stop breathing.

“I’m so sorry,” he says.

My heart leaps.

Taking his hands from the wall, he cups my cheeks and leans down to rest his forehead against mine. “I’m so, so sorry. I should have believed you. I should have trusted you. I should have had more faith in you. In us.”

It feels as if my heart is going to burst.

Grabbing the collar of his shirt, I crush my lips against his.

He slides his hands into my hair and kisses me back with such desperation that my soul momentarily leaves my body. I draw my hands down to his chest. His heart pounds underneath my palm.

When I break the kiss, he looks just as dazed and breathless as I feel.

Resting the back of my head against the wall, I draw in a deep breath and try to piece my mind back together. Then I lock eyes with him.

“Yes, you should have,” I reply at last.

He winces.

“But I get it,” I add. “We’re not perfect. We’re messy and complicated and we’re going to make mistakes and argue and make up and learn and experience it all.” A small smile plays over my lips as I hold his gaze. “It’s what makes us us.”

His eyes flood with emotion. Cupping my cheeks, he kisses me slowly and achingly tenderly.

“I love you so fucking much,” he whispers against my lips.

My heart does a somersault in my chest. Those words spear through me with such emotion that my heart aches from the sheer joy and intensity of it. Because Tristian is the first person to say those words to me and truly mean them.

He doesn’t love the perfect, fake version of me that I have presented to the world all my life.

He loves me.

All of me. Not the perfect façade. He loves the flawed and messy and complicated person that I really am. The one who gets angry and sad and disappointed and the one who makes mistakes and who tries to learn from them. But also the one who cares about others and who laughs freely and the one who enjoys wearing cute dresses and the one who is filled to the brim with excitement and joy for a future full of possibilities. The one who is not afraid to show her emotions anymore. Tristan loves that version of me. The real me.

My throat is thick with emotions, and yet, I have never breathed more freely than I do right now.

“I love you too,” I whisper back.

He kisses me again. Furiously. Possessively. Making me lose my breath all over again.

Then he rests his forehead against mine once more. One hand is braced on the wall next to my head, the other rests against the side of my neck.

“Fuck, I’m so glad that you managed to see through Derrik Payne’s bluff too,” he says.

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