Page 59 of The Fake Divination Offense
No.Heartbroken.
He shrugs one shoulder, calling my attention to the diamond sharpness of his collarbone, the perfectly sculpted contours of his bicep. “It’s something my cousins and I used to say to each other.”
That wall of his shoots up between us, the edge of what he’ll tell me about himself.
But then he’s scaling the wall. Turning his heartbreak into righteous anger.
“I want them to hear it. Maybe they’re rawball fans and they’re watching. I want them to know I’m thinking of them.”
I can’t stop the questions this time, I really can’t. I’m taken too far down to the quick. “What happened to them?”
Alexo smiles, his eyes glistening. “It’s a long story. But I haven’t seen them in a few years.” Another shrug, trying and failing to play it off. “I… miss them. It’s a silly thing.”
No. It’s not silly, the heaviness of the anguish in his eyes, but I don’t get a chance to ask another question before he’s lobbing his own at me.
We’re done being delicate with each other’s offerings, turns out. Now, we’re taking, too.
“Are you really working on those programs?” he whispers. “A crisis hotline, therapy access?”
I was supposed to have been free from Urzoth for months, maybe a year, before they’d be announced. I didn’t even officially agree to move forward on them until after the lawsuit. Seb and I, and the other Camp Merethyl survivors, we’re all due to get a hugecheck from it, and I wanted to have something set up so I could funnel that money straight out of my account. It isn’tmineand it sure as hell isn’t Camp Merethyl’s; it’ll go toward healing and hope.
But I still thought I’d have a long, long time before I’d have to deal with the kind of attention Alexo’s giving me. Looking up at me with awe, like I’m some kind of hero.
“It’s not a big deal,” I try. “Anyone would do it if they could. I won’t be the one actually administering any of the resources for the kids. I sign a check and let them plaster my face on promo materials. It isn’t—”
“Orok.” His face gentles. “You’re incredibly strong, you know that, right?”
My laugh is humorless. “You’re giving me too much credit. None of this is fromstrength.I’ve only ever felt like I’m grabbing up every possibility for even the smallest bit of relief.”
Alexo pushes closer, warm and solid against my unmoored emotions. “Youarestrong. You’re strong for sponsoring these programs when you know it’ll come with the kind of scrutiny that asshole reporter showed. Just like you went through with that lawsuit when you knew Urzoth’s followers prefer to solve problems with their fists and they’d judge you for going a peaceful way, even though I’d argue there was nothingpeacefulabout what you did. You’restrong. Probably the strongest person I’ve ever met.”
He’s so earnest, all innocence and wide doe eyes.
I can’t help but be lethally swept up in his belief.
Fuck, that he can look at me like this. That he can say these things to me.
I stare down at his thin fingers knotted in my thick, calloused ones, all of them cradled against the cloud-soft silk of his pink shirt.
A glance up the hall tells me that while we’re less public here, we’re far from alone. Staff still rush in and out, a few casting curious looks our way.
I angle my body to block Alexo from their sight. “I want to kiss you again,” I tell him.
His breath rips from him, eyes darkening. “You do, huh?”
“Very much.”
His thumb moves against mine, a maddeningly tender motion. “Not for the cameras?”
“Not for the cameras.”
A smile.
He nods. Desperately, his rose-gold hair bobbing around him, he parts his lips to utter a throaty, anxious “Please.”
Chapter Eight
Our hands are still interlocked, so I leave one to pull him along as I make my way deeper into the bowels of the hotel. I have no idea where I’m going; the way to the elevators and our rooms was behind us, but all we need right now is a private room with a lock on the door.
