His finger lightly touches the bottom of my chin, and he pushes my face upwards so that I'm looking into his eyes. Eyes that are solely on my lips.
I can't help it. I bite them.
"Oh, Delta," he whispers, quietly giggling under his breath. His laugh...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
XAVIER
"I don't hate you."
Christ, she had me right on the dot.
She was drunk last night. Drunk. So extremely intoxicated her brain leaked right out of her ears like the words spilling from her mouth.
She was beautiful even though she wasn't in her right mind yesterday. I hate that she wasn't in her right mind. I hate that she didn't know what was happening to her. I hate Logan for what he did to her at the party. I hate how she was in danger without me there.
I should've gotten there sooner. I should've known she wouldn't just let herself leave with me. It wasn't going to be that easy.
She's making things so damn hard for me. She caught my attention at school, but when I saw her in that dress that night, I couldn't get her out of my mind. The moment I laid eyes on her in that club, my mind went hectic. It's still going crazy. I'm still going crazy.
She said that she hates me. I think she does, but I know that she doesn't. Those words... the things she said last night. All of it. It was all true. How did she manage to figure me out? To spill the entire truth to me without even knowing she was doing it?
"I don't hate you," she told me. And I believed her. Fucking damn it, I do believe her.
I hate so many things about her, it's not even funny. I hate how intelligent she is; that she's smarter than I could ever be. I hate how confident she is; the way she doesn't back down from what she believes in with pride. I hate her light brown hair and her sea green eyes too; how they both hold a never-ending galaxy of fucking mystery.
I hate the way she runs her hands through her hair. I want to do that. I want to be the one to twirl those strands in between my fingers. I want to be the only one to do it, no one else but me. I hate her body, her naturally perfect body. I hate how it's always so close to me, yet so far.
I can never touch it. She would never let me. But oh God, how I want to touch it. I want to hug every dip and divvy of her figure, to hold her every curve and never let her go.
How could I hate her?
Fuck. I want her.
When I saw Logan on her last night, I couldn't possibly contain my anger. I wanted to punch the living hell out of that guy. I wanted to shove my foot so far up his ass, he'd choke on my toes. I wanted to do something, anything, to get him off of her.
I won that brawl last night. I was only focused on winning. Word spread about that celebration party at Logan's place pretty quickly, and I knew without a single doubt she would be there instead of with me. I told myself that all I needed to do was knock the guy out and head to the party. I had bruises on my face and my fists by the end of it, but I finally reached the house and got her out as quickly as I could.
