Lunar Chronicles
/ Lunar Chronicles #4 Winter - Page 159
She was an idiot. He had never once given her any indication that a real relationship could be in their future. He’d given her every chance to get used to this fact. But despite all his attempts to dissuade her from falling in love with him, her heart was still shattered.
What was worse, a kiss from a Lunar, of all things, had shattered it—and Thorne really couldn’t be blamed for that.
“Cress … listen…”
His fingers brushed her wrist, but she jerked away. “Don’t. I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair of me. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
She wiped her nose with the flimsy wing material of her ridiculous costume.
Thorne sighed and from the corner of her eye she caught him running a hand through his hair. She could feel his gaze burning into the back of her neck, so she turned away and pretended to inspect an enormous purple blossom.
He knew now, of course. She had given all her feelings away—had probably given them away a long time ago, but he’d been too concerned with hurting her to let on that he knew.
She could tell he wanted to talk more. She could feel unspoken words hovering in the air between them, suffocating her. He would apologize. He would tell her how much he cared for her—as a friend. As a member of his crew.
She didn’t want to hear it. Not now. Not ever, but especially not now, when there were more pressing issues to deal with.
“How long are we waiting here?” she asked, and though her voice was tinted with emotion, it had stopped shaking.
She heard a rustle and a quiet click of a portscreen. “A few more minutes, just to make sure they’ve rounded up the slower guests.”
She nodded.
A second later, she heard another sigh. “Cress?”
She shook her head. The little antenna balls bounced in the corner of her eyes—she’d forgotten she was wearing them. She dared to face him, hoping her face didn’t convey the misery underneath. “I’m all right. I just don’t want to talk about it.”
Thorne had situated himself against the closed door, his hands stuck in his pockets. His expression was tumultuous. Shame, maybe, mixed with doubt and nerves, and something else that was dark and heady and made her toes tingle.
He considered her for a long moment. “All right,” he said, finally. “I don’t want to talk about it, either.”
She started to nod, but was surprised when Thorne pushed away from the door. Cress blinked and stumbled back, startled by the sudden movement. Three, four steps. The backs of her thighs hit one of the desks.
“What—?”
In one movement, Thorne lifted her onto the desk and pressed her back against an enormous potted fern and—oh.
Cress had built a thousand fantasies around their rooftop kiss, but this kiss was something new.
Where before, the kiss had been gentle and protective, now there was something passionate. Determined. Cress’s body dissolved into nothing but sensation. His hands burned her waist through the skirt’s thin fabric. Her knees pressed against his hips, and he pulled her closer, closer, like he couldn’t get her close enough. A whimper escaped her mouth, only to be swallowed by his. She heard a moan, but it could have come from either of them.
And where, on the rooftop, the kiss had been cut too short by the battle raging on around them, this kiss went on, and on, and on …
Finally, when Cress was starting to feel faint, the kiss was broken with a needy inhale. Cress was trembling and she hoped he wasn’t about to set her back on her feet and inform her it was time to get on with their work, because she doubted she could walk for two steps, much less to the other side of the palace.
Thorne didn’t pull away. Rather, he slipped his arms around her back, and here was the gentle protectiveness she remembered. His breathing was as erratic as hers.
“Cress.” He said her name like a vow.
Cress shivered. Licking her tender lips, she forced her hands to un-bury themselves from his hair and moved them instead to his chest.
Then she forced herself to push him away.
Not enough to break out of his embrace, but enough that she could breathe and think and brace for the lifetime of regret she was about to bring on herself.
“This…” Her voice caught. She tried again. “This isn’t what I wanted.”
It took Thorne a moment, but then his dazed look hardened and he pushed himself back even farther.
“I mean, it is,” she amended. “Obviously, it is.”
His relief was obvious, and warmed every inch of her body. The quick, teasing grin spoke volumes. Of course this was what she wanted. Of course it was.
“But … not to be just another girl,” she said. “I never wanted to be just another one of your girls.”
The smile vanished again. “Cress…” He seemed torn, but also hopeful and unguarded. He took a deep breath. “She looked like you.”
She hadn’t realized she was watching his mouth until her eyes snapped up to meet his. “What?”
“The girl in the hallway, the one that kissed me. She looked like you.”
The kiss with the Lunar girl felt like eons ago. The memory caused a surge of envy, but Cress did her best to stomp it back down.
“That’s ridiculous. She was brunette, and tall, and—”
“Not to me.” Thorne tucked a strand of Cress’s hair behind an ear. “She must have seen us walking together. Maybe she saw how I looked at you or something, I don’t know, but she knew … she made her glamour look like you.”
Chapter end
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