Chapters (66)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Keep Reading
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sneak Peek
- Find Me
- Books by Mary Catherine Gebhard
- Acknowledgments
He looked at me out of the corner of his eye. “Nosy.”
“Just with you.”
A wrinkle formed in his brow and he shifted, like something had poked his back. He turned onto his shoulder, and then we were eye to eye. All my breath vanished. Up close, I could see the ridges of his nose. Sadness lurked along the silver striations of his blue irises.
I trailed my fingers along the grooves of his broken nose.
His eyes popped, then narrowed. “You have a death wish, Snitch.”
I can’t stop myself with him. All of my self-preservation flies out the fucking window.
No friends.
No home.
No family.
One chance at love that I stole.
A horde of admirers, and no one. Lonely. That must be so lonely.
I kept trailing my fingers along the crooked ridges of his nose. “You get into a lot of fights.”
His hand covered mine as if he was going to take it off, but then it just stayed. Covering mine, engulfing my fingers with his heat.
“My grandpa broke my nose when I was fourteen,” he said.
My fingers froze on the bridge.
“He found me crying. Over Lottie…ironically…said he would give me something to cry about.”
“Grayson…”
His eyes met mine, burning, but a small crooked smile quirked his lips. “I didn’t get it fixed out of spite. He wanted the perfect son Dad never was. Every time he looks at me he has to see his imperfection.”
Grayson dragged my hand down from his nose, across his lips, to his jaw, holding me there. Holding my hand with his, a look in his eyes that I was too afraid to decipher.
I swallowed. “Am I the only one who knows the truth about you? Not even your best friends?”
“After all you know now, you think I’d tell anyone? My ‘best friends’ Alaric Carmichael and Geoff Black have sold every word I’ve ever told them.”
Tell me who sent you and I might let you live…The Carmichaels? The Blacks?
The very first night with Grayson slammed into me. Oh my God. He thought his best friends had sent me?
He tried to shrug it off like it was no big deal. “You learn early to keep shit to yourself.”
“Because they can’t take what they can’t find,” I said. “You can talk to me. I know I’m not supposed to have this secret. It’s not mine. But you can talk to me.”
Another look I was afraid to decipher, then his eyes fell to my lips.
“You have witchcraft on your lips,” he said quietly, reverently.
“Henry V,” I whispered.