Page 62 of Forbidden Fate

“I need you to tell me the truth.”

“What truth would you like?” I ask. “That I want you? Fine. I want you. That I don’t trust you? I don’t. That I’m using the fact that you want me because I’d be an idiot not to? Sure. I’m doing that too.”

His expression changes.

I don’t know what I expect.

Anger, maybe. Revulsion. Disappointment.

Instead, he looks almost relieved. “You admit it.”

I lift my chin. “I’m not ashamed.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Good.”

That throws me. “Good?” I repeat.

“Yes.”

“You’re not offended?”

“Should I be?”

I cross my arms. “I just told you I’m manipulating you.”

“You told me you’re trying to survive.”

My throat tightens.

No.

I don’t want that.

I don’t want understanding from him. I don’t want him looking at me like he can see the scared parts I shoved down and buried under defiance.

I want desire.

I know how to handle desire.

So I rake my gaze over his body, taking my time. “Are you going to make me survive alone?”

His eyes darken. “No.” He reaches the side of the bed but doesn’t touch me.

I hate him a little for that.

I love him a little for that.

No.

Not love.

He stands there, beautiful in the lamplight. His muscles are twitching and he’s almost wincing. It’s clear he wants to touch me.

But the thought doesn’t satisfy me the way it should. Despite everything, I don’t just want to use him.