Page 479 - Fourth Wing

“We’re already too close for that, and if we hook up again, I’m going to

eventually fall for you.” My heart pounds at the rushed confession, waiting
for his response.

“You won’t.” Something akin to panic flares in his eyes, and he crosses

his arms. I swear I can actually see the man building his defenses against
his own feelings. “You don’t really know me. Not at my core.”

And whose fault is that?

“I know enough,” I argue softly. “And we’d have all the time in the world
to figure it out if you’d stop acting like such an emotional chickenshit and

just admit that you’re going to fall for me, too, if we keep this up.” There’s

no way he would have designed that saddle, spent all that time training me
to fight and fly, if he didn’t feel something. He’s going to have to fight for

this, too, or it will never work.
“I have absolutely no intention of falling for you, Sorrengail.” His eyes

narrow and he enunciates every word, like I could possibly take that any

other way.
Fuck. That. He let me in. He told me about his scars. He had an arsenal

crafted for me. He cares. He’s just as wrapped up in this as I am, even if
he’s shitty at showing it.

“Ouch.” I wince. “Well, it’s apparent that you’re not ready to admit where

this is going. So yeah, I think it’s best we agree that this was just a onetime
thing.” I force my shoulders to shrug. “We both needed to blow off some

steam, and we did, right?”

“Right,” he agrees, apprehension lining his forehead.
“So the next time I see you, I’ll just act as cool as you are right now and

pretend that I’m not remembering what it feels like to have you sliding

inside me.” Warm and hard. He really does have an incredible body, but he
doesn’t get to dictate what I do with my heart.

He stalks forward with a smirk, his gaze warming every inch of my body.
“And I’ll just pretend that I’m not remembering the feel of your soft thighs