Fangs, Fate & Other Bad Decisions novel Chapter 75

Chapter 75

“No.” I look her squarely in the eyes. “I hoped you wouldn’t be.”

That lands like a slap, and her expression falters. But before she can speak, I press on, my voice barely above a whisper. “Because I didn’t think I’d be able to stay away if you were.”

Her breath catches. And even though it’s not loud, It’s just enough for me to notice.

We don’t speak for a stretch of time that bends oddly around us, filled only by the slow rhythm of our movements. The music swells and falls. Her breath brushes my collarbone in bursts. My fingers twitch where they rest on her back, and I fight the urge to pull her closer with every breath. To never let go, ever again.

“Well,” she murmurs eventually. “Here I am.”

colors in h

1 lean back enough to see the swirling shades of colors in her eyes. “I can’t fix this in one night. But if you let me…I’ll start. And I’ll try.”

Her throat works as she swallows, and her eyes gleam beneath the artificial starlight like storm–light, as she asks, “And if I don’t?

“Then I’ll keep showing up anyway. One piece at a time. One moment at a time. Until you believe me. Or until you tell me to stop. Or leave.”

She studies me, and for the first time tonight, something in her armor slips. “I’ve told you to leave before,” she whispers “You didn’t listen, Temember?

I take that hit willingly. “Not when it comes to you. Never when it comes to you.”

She’s quiet for a beat. Then her voice comes softer, but it cuts deeper, “You could’ve come to me.”

The accusation isn’t sharp. It’s worse than that. It’s weary and brutally honest.

1 flinch–not visibly–but enough that it echoes in my chest, before I admit, “I know.”

“But you didn’t.”

She’s not yelling, not pushing. She’s just…stating facts. Facts I can’t refute. Facts I carry like broken glass in my lungs.

“You left me thinking I was crazy,” she continues, her gaze still steady on mine. “That imagined all of it. That I made too much of a kiss and a moment and a man who couldn’t even be bothered to say goodbye before he stepped out of my front door.”

Her words land with the precision of someone who’s replayed them alone to themselves mentally a thousand times before ever saying them out

“I wanted to,” I admit, my jaw tight. “Every damn night, I told myself I would. But then I’d picture the look in your eyes when you realized what I really am…and i stayed away. Like a coward.”

Her bottom lip trembles slightly before she forces it still, then says with a twinge of hurt, “You didn’t even give me the choice.”

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify