Page 255 of Ruthless Court
No swagger.
He looks like the boy who told me his coach drove him to school before sunrise. The scholarship student who learned that belonging could be withdrawn the second he stopped proving his value.
“I do the same thing,” I admit.
“With athletes.”
“With anyone who wants something from me.”
“I want something from you.”
My body goes still.
Kane holds my gaze.
“What?”
“You.”
The stairwell shrinks.
I try to find the joke.
There isn’t one.
“That’s a convenient answer.”
“It’s the honest one.”
“You also want film analysis.”
“I can want two things.”
“That doesn’t help your case.”
“I know.”
His eyes drop to my mouth.
Heat gathers beneath my sweater, quick and disloyal.
Kane sees the change in my breathing.
He remains where he is.
“I’m not kissing you again.”
The floor seems to tilt.
I adjust my glasses.
“Was that supposed to upset me?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“Because I’m not doing it until you ask.”
