Page 51 of Love Me Dangerous

Still, she won’t look at me, her breaths rising and falling fast, like she’s desperate to get away.

Why?

“I keep trying not to care about you.” Her tone is strained.

“I know a little bit about what that’s like.”

She wheels on me, her eyes half wild. “How do I know you’re not full of shit?”

I let go of her hand like it’s burning my palm. “You don’t.”

“Is someone after you? Is that it?”

“I’m not?—”

She cuts me off with a flash of her palm. “I can’t—” She gulps a breath. “I won’t… care about you if you’re just going to disappear.”

I take a step toward her. She grimaces, like the closer I get, the more pain I’m causing her.

“Tell me why that scares you.” Is this about Jesse? Or someone who hurt her?

“Please, Zach. Don’t turn this around. Not today.”

I curse to myself. She called me elusive, and I liked it. But I’m thinking differently about it right now. “I’m sorry.”

“If you’re leaving, go ahead and do it already.”

I close the distance between us. “I can’t.”

“Because of what happened?” Her eyelids glisten with angry tears.

I think about how she brought me home and cared for me, of Henry’s visit, and Rowdy tending to my wound and finding my pack.There’s good people in this town, Henry said. Back then, I wasn’t ready to believe him.

As much as I’ve fought it, I’m starting to. And now Sofie’s worried that all that kindness doesn’t matter to me. That I’ll just be someone else who leaves her.

Gently, I swipe Sofie’s tears with my thumbs. “Because there are people here I care about.”

She grips my wrists as if she’s afraid I’m going to slip away if she doesn’t hold on tight. “Liar.”

The daring, hard look in her eyes is shredding me from the inside out.

Fuck, this girl. I should be the angry one. I never asked for her to care about me or step inside the disaster that is my life, needling me with obnoxious questions, or rope me into her orbit, and I certainly never asked to care for her in return.

Because caring about her makes me vulnerable. And I swore to never make that mistake again.

I press my lips to hers in a soft kiss. She didn’t ask for one, but in this moment, it’s the only way I can show her she’s wrong.

Her lips are plush and so fucking soft. Up close like this, her scent reminds me of apples, but it’s tender and almost sweet, like a rose. It’s as impossible to describe as it is to resist.

She reaches for my waist. I kiss her again, savoring the tenderness between us and the effortless way this moment races into the next. She shifts closer to me, her grip on my waist tightening. Hot pain shoots up my right side, but my grunt is lost to her mouth and the echo of our kisses in the small space.

How could I have forgotten how good kissing is? How playful, spontaneous… and sexy? Or maybe it’s justherkisses—soft yet hungry, gentle yet urgent. I’m torn between wanting to stand here kissing until my knees collapse and needing to be closer to her.

Not knowing which feels like an impossible question that I would never get tired of asking.

I risk a little flick of my tongue, and she opens for me like it’s exactly what she wants. My breaths come faster, and my pulse taps harder into my throat. Her soft little tongue tangles with mine like a slow, sweet dance. Our lips touch again, hungrier now.

Kissing her like this is making my head feel buzzy and my heart like it might gallop out of my chest. It makes me feel reckless and brazen, like I’m somehow invincible. Believing it would make me a fool, but in this moment, finding the energy to care is difficult.

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