Page 81 of The Last Love Story

“But Lyceum had sold me out. And the Machs—”

“The Machs didn’t do shit. I told them they couldn’t. I told them if they did, I’d leave—”

“You threatened to leave the Machs?” I ask. “For me?”

He grits the word out: “Yes.”

“Why?”

He lowers his hands and turns, pacing a few steps before turning back to me. The low light throws his jawline into sharper relief, and his eyes almost glow.

“It’s not logical. You’re just one person. If you could stop President Graves—if handing you over could give us a fighting chance... it shouldn’t have fazed me. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do it, Ripley.”

The tears dry on my cheeks as I stare at him. Huxley Finn. The boy I couldn’t stand. The man I thought was a heartless monster. My heart thunders in my chest as I try and piece things together.

“You’ve had your mission, this whole time. You’ve been trying to complete it.”

I expect him to cower, to lie, but instead his eyes blaze, shoulders square, and he towers over me, every bit the Mach general. “And I wanted to. I would have. That mission was clear-cut. But then I saw you.”

My breath catches as Hux steps closer, and slips his hand into my pocket. My body alights at the brush of his fingers through the thin fabric, and he withdraws with the poker chip. Our poker chip.

“I don’t usually work with robotics,” he says, his voice detached. “But it’s just coding. And I’m very good at coding.” He flips it around, and I watch in surprise as little pincers and legs seem to sprout from the smooth surface.

A wave of understanding rushes through me. Huxley Finn, the boy who swore to kill the president, jeopardized the entire operation to get me clear. He made the poker chip jump from my pocket, knowing that I’d run after it.

“That explains the car,” I say slowly. “But the copter... that almost killed me, Hux. Almost killed Callum. And you did nothing to stop it.”

His eyes go tight. “I guess,” he says slowly, “I’m not very good at being a Mach. Because I can’t believe that one life is worth sacrificing to save millions. Not if that life is yours.” He slaps the poker chip back into my palm. “I guess you win, Ripley Hart.”

I laugh sadly, a million emotions warring within me. “You think I win? I was supposed to pretend to be the Girl Next Door, make myself into this perfect fiancée, smile and simper like a brainless propaganda princess, and I couldn’t pull that off. Jumping off boats and falling for another guy—”

I freeze, closing my eyes tight like that will take back the words.

Maybe he didn’t hear that. Maybe he didn’t hear that.

But with my eyes closed, the silence is only thicker, a presence that seems to press into my ears.

I feel him step closer, his boots sounding softly on the concrete below us.

“Ripley,” he murmurs.

I shake my head. “Ripley’s not here right now, and you didn’t hear that.”

He growls, something between a chuckle and a groan. “Oh, I heard it.”

“I was talking about someone else?” I try, my voice pitching up in a quiet, pathetic, desperate attempt at joking.

“Open your eyes, Ripley,” Hux demands. He’s closer now. I can feel the heat of his breath.

I squint one eye open, and then the other, like I’m staring at the sun. He looms over me, his chest heaving as he stares down at me with a fiery expression. My heart stutters in my chest.

“You going to tell me to play along?” I whisper, and Hux gives me a lopsided grin as he wraps a massive hand around the back of my neck.

“Oh, Ripley, I’m not playing about this anymore,” he whispers back, pulling me flush to him. And this time, when he crashes his mouth to mine, I realize what it’s like to actually kiss Hux. For real.

My hands fly to his waist, gripping his dark shirt in my fists and pulling him as close as I can. It’s still not close enough. He opens his mouth, and I tilt my head, deepening the kiss as our tongues tangle, breath mixing as he groans against me and I let out a half laugh, half gasp.

I’m kissing Hux. I’m kissing Hux for real, I think, my mind spinning. He straightens as he tightens his arm against my back, lifting me. I wrap my legs around his waist on instinct, and he spins, pinning me to the wall.