Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
“What the hell?” Cosima shoves at my chest. It was a dick thing to say, so I take half a step back, letting my hand fall away from her face. “Stop being a jerk to her. She’s my friend. A loyal one who has been here for me when no one else was.” Cosima’s words hit their target, striking me where she knows it will hurt the most.
“Marks knows turnabout is fair play, and I want her to know that I know what she’s up to.”
“That’s not any of your business.” Cosima adorably pokes my chest with her finger. Her nails are painted a soft pink.
“This time it is, and she knows why it is.” Cosima’s brows pull together, and she glances over to Marks, who has taken a few steps back toward the hallway.
“I hear what you’re putting down.”
“Wait, what am I missing?” Cosima's eyes go from Marks to me, her brows pulling together.
“It’s nothing.” Marks glances around at anywhere but us.
“Z?” Cosima asks me. I’m in sticky territory. Cosima wants to know what I mean, while I don’t think her friend wants her to know.
“I’ll tell.” I shrug. “But I don’t think she wants me to, so I’ll leave it up to you.”
Now Cosima holds the choice in her hands. “Is there something you don’t want me to know?” she asks Marks.
“I don’t want anyone knowing.” She tries to glare at me. Marks is terrible at it. Too much time behind a screen, I suppose. Cosima has a glare that can cut; she gets it from her mother.
“Why?”
“I’m still working it out myself, okay?”
“Okay, that’s fine. He won’t tell me.” Her attention swings back to me, where I want it. “Right?”
“I won’t tell you unless you ask me.”
“No.” Cosima shakes her head adamantly. “You won’t tell anyone.”
“Cosima—”
“No, promise it.” She pokes my chest again, and I have to fight a smirk.
“All right, but if things change, I will be telling you, and you can decide what should be done.” She doesn’t realize who her new little friend here is stalking. I’m not sure how she’d feel about it. I know I probably shouldn’t be using it against Marks, but there is nothing I wouldn’t do if someone was in my way to Cosima. Marks needs to understand that.
“I don’t even understand what you said, but okay,” Cosima agrees.
“Marks understands, and that’s what matters. Right?” I cock my head toward her, and she nods.
I note that Marks isn’t saying she’ll stop, and on some level, I can more than understand that. My stalking of Cosima is leaps and bounds further than Marks’ fascination with Ronan. But I’ve had a lot more time than she has.
“Maybe I should leave you two to talk?” Marks takes a few more steps back, putting her now into the hallway. “I’ll be in my room. Come talk to me later,” she says to Cosima.
Again, Marks is terrible at hiding cues in person. There is something she wants to talk to her about, something that is a secret.
"Fine. Run." Cosima sighs. "I get it. I'd run too if I could."
"You're welcome to try," I advise her. She wouldn’t get very far. Not even a few steps.
"Shut up." An admirable growl comes from her.
"Don't pretend you wouldn't enjoy me chasing you." I lean down closer, feeling her minty sweet breath against my lips. "You wanted me to chase you here."
"I ran to get away from you."
"Oh, Cosima, haven't you realized this yet?" I bring my hand to her cheek, cupping it so my thumb can stroke her soft skin. "You'll never escape me."
Chapter Eleven
COSIMA
Ican’t deny what he’s saying, but it doesn’t mean I’m not going to try. I did want him to chase. What girl doesn’t?
The whole reason I didn’t let Marks check my phone again was because I was scared to find out he wasn’t still watching over me in his own way, which I’m starting to think is a whole lot deeper than I ever realized. But what I’m not getting is why.
“Why are you doing this? I can’t escape you, but you treat me like shit.” I lean my head all the way back so that I can look up into his eyes. Z flinches for the first time, giving me an emotion that isn’t pure intensity because that is all I have felt since we walked in the door.
I go to step back, needing his hand off me. His thumb is still gently stroking my cheek, and it’s hard to think when he’s being sweet—okay, kind of sweet. Z doesn’t let me move, but his hand does drop from my cheek, only to cup the back of my neck, keeping me firmly in place.
“I’ve missed you.”
I grit my teeth, trying to get my anger in check, but it only lasts for a second, maybe only a tenth of a second. “Bullshit.”