Page 24 of We Are the Stars

“You’re…growing on me.”

“I am? Already? What’d I do? Because I’m fairly certain you hate me.”

“I hate everybody,” he grumbles.

“Except me.”

“No, but I am partial to your quick wit.”

I will not read too much into that.“Yeah? Good. Now, repeat your question.”

“Fine… Uh…” He surprises me again, this time by clamming up. Carsen shifts from foot to foot, refusing to make eye contact with me. It’s kind of…cute.

Cute.

My initial reaction is that the word “cute” doesn’t fit him. He’s too angry, too rough around the edges. But, if I look under his tough exterior—and especially in this moment—I see how fragile he is.

“I, um, asked how your first day was.”

“Other than your snide remarks and constant ‘you’re doing it wrong’ comments, it was a good first day.”

He gives a playful grin. I take a jagged breath, startled by the way it makes my heart race. Carsen on his own is handsome. Carsen smiling? Yeah, kill me now, because oh my god. It’s…beautiful.

I only wish he’d do it more often.

“Yeah, I like your mouth.”

I don’t think it’s possible to predict what’s going to come out of his mouth at any given moment. One minute he’s snappy and the next he’s…nice. “Thank you…I think.”

His grin grows, and my heart starts beating faster. “I didn’t mean it in a creepy way. I just appreciate that you don’t mince your words, or try to make me feel…” He trails off, his brows inching closer together, his grin slipping into a frown. “You give it to me straight. You don’t walk on eggshells. I like that.”

“Why would I walk on eggshells?”

His jaw sets firm and his eyes grow hard.Talk about whiplash.“I’m not fucking stupid, Elliott.”

The words fly at me like bricks, but I refuse to be hit with them. “I never said you were.”

“You’re implying it, playing dim with me.”

Annnnnd now I’m pissed. He’s acting as if I’m the one in the wrong for treating him like a person and not a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of my shoe. It’s as if, despite what he’s said, he’s upset Idon’ttreat him different.

“Dim? What? I amnotdoing that! I’m—”

“I know you know!” His eyes are steel and his jaw is tightly clamped.

All I can wonder is how we reached this point. How did we go from a normal, borderline flirty conversation to him screaming at me because I don’t put on kid gloves around him?

“I fucking know, okay?” he goes on, anger seeping into every word. “I know you think I’m some sick fuck who murdered his own mother and pinned it on his father. Hell, after that shit-talking I heard yesterday, you must—”

“Must what?” It’s my turn to interrupt. “Must think you’re not whatthey’vemade you out to be. Must think youdidn’tmurder anyone. That you’reinnocent? Because that’s exactly whatIthink.”

“I’ve seen you watching me today.”

“Because you’re intriguing.”

“Is it the killer in me?”

“No. It’s the asshole in you.”

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