He was losing her. He’d been so close. She’d been there, he could feel it. He’d seen her weaken, starting to melt. Felt the hot lick of her eyes over his skin, the current charging the air between them.
And then, just that quickly, everything changed. The temperature dropped. The static grounded. And a swarm of angry bees manifested beneath his skin, buzzing in his head, making him itch and sting and want to roar in painful frustration. Why wouldn’t she damned well give in?
Fighting the vise around his chest, Chance surged to his feet. Wasn’t surprised when Melora rose with him. She leaned into his space, looking up at him with eyes that were flat and bleak, lacking emotion, and speared through his soul like a blade.
“You know what? You’re right… I don
Chance sat at the edge of the bed, feet on the floor, forearms propped over his knees, jaw painfully set. This wasn’t going to work. He looked over his shoulder at Melora’s sleeping form, quietly curled into herself, a tiny furrow pulled between her delicate eyebrows. She didn’t want what he was offering… not really. They’d been in the same book, but on different pages from the start. He’d tried not to hurt her, but he’d been an idiot, and in the end that was all he’d managed to do. Even today, when suddenly all the pieces of his life seemed to be falling into place, one jagged edge didn’t fit and he’d felt it cut through Melora’s vulnerable heart. ‘Just let me love you.’ He shouldn’t have said the words like that.