Page 71 of The Way I Hate Him
Long, endless lashes frame the pale stones that are her irises.
And they’re starving.
Starving for attention.
“You paint yourself in a light that’s unflattering,” she says, lifting her hand to feel the scruff on my jaw. Her thumb slowly works over it, and fuck, my heart beats faster than I’ve felt in a very long time. “Maybe you shouldn’t anymore, because I’m not seeing the man you try to be. I see someone different.”
Her thumb drags close to my lip, the temptation to suck it into my mouth is so fucking strong.
“You’re seeing a lie.” My breath feels heavy in my chest as she leans in an inch closer.
Fuck, don’t kiss me, Hattie.
Please don’t fucking kiss me.
I won’t be able to stop you.
I won’t be able to stop myself.
She moves in another inch, her eyes matching mine so we’re at the same level.
“I think you’re telling me a lie, and I’m seeing the truth.”
Her tongue peeks out, wetting her lips.
My body stills.
My muscles tense.
My need skyrockets as she moves one inch closer.
Motherfucker, I want this.
I want those lips.
I want this girl.
I want every goddamn thing about her.
With nothing but a whisper of a breath between us, her thumb drags across my jaw. “Maybe you’ll stop lying to me . . . to yourself.”
And then she pulls back, taking the air straight from my lungs with her.
Standing, she takes off my sweatshirt, but I stop her while my pulse rockets through my body. My voice sounds garbled as I say, “Keep it.”
“Keep your sweatshirt?”
“Yeah.” I swallow hard as I stand as well.
She gathers the fabric at the collar and gently brings it to her nose before sniffing. When her eyes open, they dreamily look up at me. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
Fuck . . .
“Yeah, you smell so good, Hayes.”
I wet my lips as well, staring down at her, unsure of what to fucking say. This is bad. This is really fucking bad.
“You know, you could tell me that I smell good as well.” She tugs on the hem of my shirt. “That would be the kind thing to do, though I know you hate being kind to me.”
