Except Daniella hadn’t meant to say that at all. She’d meant to say she writes poetry, which was a safe secret, an easy secret. Not for anyone else, but Eli already knew that one, so it might not have been as scary.

Instead, she’d gone and told a secret that she’d been keeping from herself for years.

Eli’s hand tensed in her own. “Look, you’re going through a lot right now.”

Daniella’s tensed right back, so that what had been a soft, gentle touch was now two hands, gripping for control. “Don’t tell me how I feel.”

“I’m not,” said Eli.

Daniella pulled her hand away. Wrenched it, more like. “You are. You know you are. You don’t get to decide how I feel. It might not be convenient, but it is true. I love you.”

“You can’t.” Eli shook his head. His eyes were wide.

She looked at Eli. He was tense. Daniella knew that kind of tension well. He was afraid. She felt it nearly every time somebody told her that they liked her, that they thought they loved her. How funny to see the expression now, rather than to feel it. To be its recipient rather than its instigator. To know that she cared and that the person didn’t care back.

To know that she had been right about love all along. That it was a threat to her when somebody felt it. And it was a threat to others when she was under its sway.

“I can, and I will.” Daniella knew a rejection when she saw one, when she felt one. The knowledge didn’t make the sting go away. Didn’t make her heart stop hammering or make her breath come back any slower. She got up. She took strides as long as she possibly could and wrenched open the door.

Eli was shouting at her from behind. Maybe telling her to stop. Maybe asking her to wait, for him to explain. But Daniella didn’t need explanations. She had seen enough. She didn’t need to be let down kindly or gently. She needed to get off this roof. She didn’t want one of her favorite places ruined by the sensations running through her. She didn’t always want to think of the fear and panic on his face when she thought about the roof at Wild Nights Bookstore and Emporium.

Because that’s the other thing Daniella realized as she was leaping down the stairs, two at a time. That might have been the last time she ever sat on the roof of the store. She’d have no further memories there. And her last image of the space—her very last one—would be that horrible wounded expression that was on Eli’s face as she turned and fled the sight of him.