Page 105 of Kiss Me Like I Didn't Kill You
A cruel, knowing smirk.
Something cold unfurls in my stomach.
No. It can’t be.
But my intuition is screaming at me.
I push myself up, my legs shaky, my heart pounding so hard it blurs every thought.
I don’t bother with a coat. I yank the door open and run, down the corridor, down the stairs, out into the rain.
The cold stings my skin, but I barely register it.
The men’s dorm rises ahead, the windows dimly lit. I take the steps two at a time, breath catching in my throat.
I already know which room is his, the one facing mine.
The front door isn’t even locked. I push it open, and it slams shut behind me, the sound echoing through the quiet.
The living room is empty, dimly lit, the air still.
I move through it slowly until I reach his bedroom.
The door is slightly open. I push it wider and step inside.
The sight before me knocks the air clean out of my lungs.
On the bed lies Zara.
Onhisbed.
The same girl who kissed him at the first Circle party.
The one he told me not to worry about.
The one he swore meant nothing.
The memory crashes through me.
“You kissed her.”
“She means nothing. Never did. Never will. You don’t have to worry about her.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
She’s lying in his bed now. I can’t see much, the sheets hide most of her, but her shoulders are bare, her hair tangled, the air thick with a truth I don’t want to believe.
I look away. The sight is too much.
We aren’t together. He hasn’t cheated. But it feels as if he has.
I try to switch it off, to pretend my chest hasn’t just splintered at the sight of another woman in his bed.
My voice comes out lower than I mean it to. “You were the one sending me those notes,” I say, forcing myself to meet his eyes.
A faint smirk curves his mouth. “Took you long enough to figure that out.”
