Page 69 of Summertime Hexy
“I know.”
And she would’ve.
And maybe that’s what scares me most.
Because for the first time in two hundred years, someone didn’t just fightforme.
They fought tokeepme.
And I’m not letting her go.
Not now. Not ever.
CHAPTER 23
HAZEL
Ijolt awake with a gasp, feeling the heat of Derek’s gaze before I’ve fully opened my eyes. My neck cracks from where my head’s been lolled against the wooden chair, and I blink away the blur of sleep, trying to focus onhim.
Because he’salive.And awake.
Sitting up in the bed, one of his hands inches from mine, fingertips almost brushing, like he was reaching out to touch me before I woke and suddenly remembers he shouldn’t.
His hair is tousled, blood crusted around a cut on his forehead that’s already starting to heal, and his eyes are darker than midnight—but somehow soft, as if he’s seeing everything about me for the first time.
I meet his eyes.
“You’re awake,” I say, breathless and not just because I’ve been snoring in a chair all night.
“You stayed,” he replies, and somehow, those two words are more loaded than a curse.
“Yeah, well.” I look away, shuffle on the chair, fidgeting because the rawness of his stare makes me feel too exposed. “Someone had to keep you from smelling the roses forever. Or daisies. Or whatever vampires think is poetic.”
He lets out a huff that could be a laugh, if he were capable of it. “You did that. Apparently.”
“Me?” I snort. “Pretty sure I just panicked and tried to magic you back to life because that’s literally all I know how to do: throw magic at things until they either work or explode. Either way, the problem goes away.”
Derek leans forward, his bare chest brushing against the sheets. “You stopped the curse,” he says, his voice gravelly and low. “You saved everyone.”
“Yeah, withyourhelp,” I counter. “Which reminds me, what thehellwere you thinking, jumping in front of magic like that? I had it under control!”
Derek’s eyes narrow. “Did you?”
“No, but you didn’t know that, and—” I stop, feelings tripping over each other, horror and anger and something deeper I don’t want to name all getting tangled on my tongue. “Every time. Everysingletime I’m in danger—or think I’m in danger—you’re there, Derek. Throwing yourself into whatever shit I’ve accidentally summoned because I sneezed wrong.”
“Hazel.”
I don’t let him talk.
Well, I try not to. His voice is always like melted war drums, luring me in with that growl. But I’m on a roll and if I let him get a word in, I’ll lose my nerve.
“I never asked you to, okay? I never asked you to save me. Todiefor me. That’s not fair to you, and it’s no one’s job butmineto make sure I don’t ruin everything with my stupid magic or reckless ideas, and?—"
“Hazel.”
This time, his voice is a command.
Not the harsh kind. Gentle, but edged with iron, and I shut my mouth like his word cast a spell of silence on me.
