Chapter 41 #2
“Shut up!” I say. “Knox, talk some sense into him. Make him put me down.”
“Take her sister back to my place,” Ender says. “I’ll meet you there.”
“Someone is in trouble,” Knox says cheerily.
“I hate you,” I say glumly.
Knox ruffles my hair before heading up the stairs, eager to see my sister. My cheeks are flushed with rage. I would continue pounding on his chest, but my dress slips lower every time I raise my fist.
Cold air grazes my skin the second we step outside, and I shiver.
Ender’s palm slides up my thigh, rubbing away the goosebumps while I seethe in silence.
Once my feet are planted on solid ground, the insults I plan to volley his way will be immeasurable.
But, for now, I secretly enjoy his touch.
His long fingers curl around my flesh possessively.
“Such a sweet, tame cat,” Ender says sarcastically.
I growl, making him chuckle.
A man pauses to gawk at me, but when Ender’s fingers slide to his gun, he picks up his speed.
Ender opens the car door, and he deposits me on the seat. I open my mouth to disparage his character when the door slams in my face. Ender is walking around to the driver’s seat when I leap across the console and lock his door.
I grin at him from behind the window. Disapproval flashes across his eyes.
“Very mature, Warrick. And to think you just turned twenty, this is the behavior I’d expect from a chi—”
I raise both my middle fingers and press them to the window so he can get a real good look.
Smoke erupts from the vents, and I startle at the sight of a spark. A fire erupts, burning through the plastic. It’s expanding quickly, and my eyes widen. My lungs start to grow heavy, and I frantically unlock Ender’s door so he can do something.
He slides into his seat, not the slightest bit fazed by the fire. I glance at the vent, but the smoke and fire are gone, as if the incident never happened.
“There was…” I begin.
“A fire?” Ender asks calmly.
Realization dawns on me.
“You asshole,” I say. “You used your powers.”
Ender shrugs and turns the key. The truck roars to life.
“Cold?” he asks, already fiddling with the heater. “You must be wearing that scrap of fabric.”
He reaches back and drops his jacket onto my lap.
I glare at it, refusing to put it on. Still, the weight of it warms my bare thighs. The heater turns on, and warm air sweeps up my skin, brushing my face.
I turn toward the window, presenting him with my back. The silence feels oppressive, but I refuse to be the first one to break it.
“What do you see in him?” Ender asks. “Sullivan, that is.”
I sigh deeply. Here we go again.
“He’s thoughtful. Look at what he risked to make me and my sister happy,” I say. “Nobody does things like that. Not for us. Not since our mother died.”
I hate that I’m telling him this. He doesn’t deserve the truth. He doesn’t deserve anything.
His knuckles are white on the steering wheel.
“I didn’t know it was your birthday,” he says.
“Because you’re not my friend,” I say slowly. “Why would you bother to care?”
A fleeting emotion crosses his eyes.
“You forget that we decided to keep this relationship platonic,” I say. “That means you can’t demand that I kiss you. Why would you even ask me that?”
I’m glad that he came to his senses, but I’m still confused as to why he would want to ruin everything for a few minutes of satisfaction. None of my friends know about the swap, but the second Ender kisses me in public, it would dissolve my entire ruse.
I don’t know how I’d even begin to lie my way out of that without confessing the entire truth. He almost put me in a terrible position. I’d have to either confess that I swapped places with my sister or let them assume that I was having some sordid affair with her husband.
He exhales loudly, tipping his head back, and dragging a hand through his hair like the answer physically hurts him.
The car comes to a screeching halt on the side of the road.
“Because I can’t stop thinking about you,” Ender snaps.
“I think about you every hour of the day. And it doesn’t matter how many times I remind myself that you are off-limits—that there is no place for distractions in my life, that you are the antithesis of everything I’ve ever believed in.
Because the second your eyes meet mine, I can’t think of a single reason why I should deny myself the one thing I am incapable of resisting. ”
My heart slams against my ribs. This can’t be real. I must have drunk more than I thought. Because Ender Vale does not say things like this. Especially, to the girl he claims to hate. It feels like I’m trapped in a dream. Everything is hazy and milky and completely untrue.
His voice is despairing and hollow when he next speaks.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asks roughly.
Pain, torment, and anguish flit across his bright-blue eyes like a storm tearing across the summer sky. Why does he look so beautiful when he suffers? Why does it draw me to him like a moth to a flame?
“I tried to erase it, to drown it, to destroy it, but it refuses to be silenced, it demands to be heard,” Ender says. “And won’t you hear it?”
“Why are you telling me this?” I whisper. “We said we wouldn’t do this.”
“You’re killing me, Warrick,” he says. “Slowly. Like poison. And I can’t save myself.”
Panic curls in my chest like smoke. I don’t know how to answer him. The silence drags on for so long, it grows teeth.
“You probably won’t remember this tomorrow,” he mutters, “which is for the best.”
“I will,” I say softly.
I think about you every hour of the day.
How can I ever forget that?
His hand cups my cheek; his palm is warm against my skin.
“So beautiful,” he whispers. “Your eyes are so expressive.”
His thumb traces my mouth, and I inhale sharply when it dips in the slightest bit.
“Say my name.”
“Vale.”
He shakes his head. “My first name.”
I hesitate just for a heartbeat.
“Ender.”
His name slips past my tongue. It feels strange not to call him by his surname. For so long, he was just ‘Vale,’ an extension of his father, and I never saw him as anything more than what he was.
Something dark and raw flashes across his eyes.
His hand drops, but I catch his wrist before he can pull away. His touch is warm and steady. I know what Mercy said. My sister’s warning is fresh in my mind, but right now it’s hard to cling to my hatred. It floats away on a dense cloud, drifting far from my reach with each passing moment.
“Warrick,” he warns. “Don’t look at me like that.”
I ignore him and climb over the console instead, settling firmly on his lap. He goes rigid beneath me, breath hitching as my thighs bracket his hip.
“We can’t do this,” he says, but his hand immediately slips into my hair.
He tilts my head back and presses his mouth to my throat, hungry and unrestrained. His teeth graze my skin, making me shiver.
“Make me stop,” he murmurs against my skin. “I have no control when it comes to you.”
“Don’t,” I whisper, fingers tightening in his hair.
His kisses turn rough, desperate, his stubble scraping my skin as his hand slides along my thigh.
I don’t care if this is a mistake.
I don’t care about tomorrow.
All I care about is the way Ender Vale sounds like he’s already lost.
I don’t have that voice in my head telling me that this is a foolish idea. Or that I’ll hate myself when it’s over, because he’s going to push me away again, when it should be me rejecting him.
There is no future for us. At least not one that has a happy ending.
But it all pales at the terrifying realization that I think about Ender Vale just as much as he does me.