Page 132 of Firestorm
The voices behind me fell away as my heart pounded in my ears. I breathed in an out, the sensation pained like I was breathing in ice. The corner was so close. I could run at the corner.
I made it around the corner and was promptly shoved into an alcove.
I almost shrieked, but a hand flew over my mouth.
My affinity flared, squeezing the throat of whoever held me, and the hand over my face fell away. I whipped around to face my attacker, then gasped when I saw Wyatt turning blue while clawing at his neck.
My affinity dropped instantly, and Wyatt sucked in a ragged gasp, almost falling to his knees while I huddled over him.
“Are you okay? Holy shit, I’m so sorry.” I whispered, running my hands up and down his back.
“’S fine,” he wheezed. “I’ve had my oxygen taken before, but shit, that was strong. Felt like you were actually squeezing me.”
I blinked. Okay, so that was good. Wyatt didn’t realize what’d actually happened.
“What the fuck,” Wyatt gasped. “What the fuck h-happened back there?”
I sighed. “Alexander was–”
“Why thefuck,” Wyatt seethed, cutting me off, “Are you calling himAlexander?”
“Because that’s hisname?” I hissed. “God, you’re such an ass.”
“Why was he touching you?” Wyatt whisper-yelled. I could barely see his face in the dim alcove, but he looked pissed. And that pissed me off.
“Because he’s a creep?!” I whisper-yelled back. “You know what? Fuck you, Wyatt. I’m not allowing myself to be interrogated by you after what just happened to me.”
I turned on my heel, and Wyatt grabbed my arm, pulling me back toward him, albeit much more gently than before.
“Skye,” he said softly, sounding pained. “I’m sorry, Skye. I didn’t mean to, I just…”
I scoffed. “Just, what? Did you notjustmean to send me away? Youjustmeant to ignore me every time you see me? Youjustmeant to reject me for no good reason?”
“Skye, listen,” Wyatt blew out a breath. “I’m sorry. For everything. I can’t…this can’t be different, but I’m still here for you. Let me help you. What’s happened? Is it Aiden?”
I scowled at him. I didn’t like how quick Wyatt was to blame Aiden for my mood.
“None of your business,” I whispered back, though my fight was waning.
“Everything about you is my business,” Wyatt growled, and fuck if that didn’t sort of turn me on.
I hated him.
“Skye, fuck, I’m sorry. You have to know you can trust me.” Wyatt let go of my arm. I flattened myself against the wall, ignoring the urgeto rub my thighs together to do something about the sudden ache between my legs.
“I don’t,” I whispered. Life was so fucking unfair. Wyatt looked so good. He smelled so good. His voice was so deep and–
“Look at me, Skye. Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t trust me.” Wyatt said, locking his hazel gaze with mine.
I looked at him, really looked at him, even though he didn’t deserve it. Every emotion he wanted me to see was there. Vulnerability, regret, pain, sadness.
I dropped my chin to my chest.
“I do trust you, Wyatt,” I whispered. “That’s what scares me.”
“What happened, Skye? I’m still here for you.” Wyatt was suddenly much closer to me, his breath fanning across my cheek as he spoke again. “I’m always here for you.”
And good. Fucking. Lord. I believed him.
