Page 51 of The Consequence of Loving Me

Fucking Maverick.

He just had to go and draw a very clear line in the sand.

Just when I’m about to make some kind of excuse to get my ass out of this situation, I look up to find him inches away from me. Emotion shows in the crease of his brow, in his unwavering gaze, in the way his lips are slightly parted.

I can’t kiss him.

His lips can’t touch mine. I’m too afraid of what my broken heart will feel afterward.

But I’m not quick enough.

Before I know it, Maverick’s fingers are wrapped around my chin. They are strong against my skin as he slowly tilts my head up.

He keeps gently pulling until I’m looking at him, his face only an inch away from mine.

I go to sit back on my heels, my knees pressing into the hard basement floor. His body travels with me, though, and now he’s leaning over me, blocking everyone else out from the party.

We stare at each other.

His pointer finger rests right against the pulse in my neck—the racing pulse that’s currently giving away all my secrets.

I’m staring at the scar on his lips when his mouth begins to move.

“I don’t think I can come back from this, Veronica,” he tells me.

“Then don’t do it,” I warn, trying like hell to avoid this chain reaction that will only end in despair.

“I don’t think I can do that either,” he murmurs, his voice breaking at the end.

He pulls my lips against his so fast I don’t even have time to process it.

It’s terrifying.

It’s magnetic.

But most of all, it’s tragic. Because I can’t let it happen again.

Maverick doesn’t waste a second, his tongue skirting against my bottom lip. His other hand finds the other side of my face at the same time I open my mouth to him. His hands are clammy against the side of my face, the warmth sending shivers down my body.

Our tongues move against each other so achingly slowly. I feel it everywhere in my body.

Maverick kisses me and it feels like a poem—short, sweet, and with rhythm.

Every inch of my body tingles from the way his lips move against mine.

But most of all, I feel it in my heart.

“Veronica,” he whispers against my lips, both of us lost to the people surrounding us.

The way he says my name, it breaks me out of our moment.

Because Maverick says my name like he needs me.

I can’t be needed. Not ever again.

I place my hand on his chest, feeling his racing heart beneath his shirt. Our foreheads press against each other in a painstakingly long moment before I do what I have to do. I look him in the eye, focusing for a short moment on his swollen lips.

“I can’t do this.” I pull his hands from the sides of my face, the warmth from them lingering long after I lock myself in my room.

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