“Come on, Hathaway," he said, taking my arm. "You can be my partner. Let’s see what you’ve been doing all this time."An hour later, he had his answer."Not practicing, huh?""Ow,” I groaned, momentarily incapable of normal speech.He extended a hand and helped me up from the mat he’d knocked me down on—about fifty times."I hate you,” I told him, rubbing a spot on my thigh that was going to have a wicked bruise tomorrow."You’d hate me more if I held back.""Yeah, that’s true," I agreed, staggering along as the class put the equipment back."You actually did okay.""What? I just had my ass handed to me.""Well, of course you did. It’s been two years. But hey, you’re still walking. That’s something." He grinned mockingly."Did I mention I hate you?”He flashed me another smile, which quickly faded to something more serious. "Don’t take this the wrong way…I mean, you really are a scrapper, but there’s no way you’ll be able to take your trials in the spring—""They’re making me take extra practice sessions," I explained. Not that it mattered. I planned on getting Lissa and me out of here before those practices really became an issue."Extra sessions with who?""That tall guy. Dimitri."Mason stopped walking and stared at me. "You’re putting in extra time with Belikov?""Yeah, so what?""So the man is a god.""Exaggerate much?" I asked."No, I’m serious. I mean, he’s all quiet and antisocial usually but when he fights...wow. If you think you’re hurting now, you’re going to be dead when he’s done with you."Great. Something else to improve my day.”

“Sorry doesn’t mean anything! Not when you’re still with him. It’s not just that you cheated—it’s that he’s still here, and you’re still with him. It just goes on and on, and it hurts every single time I see you with him. I hate it that he makes you smile, and that there’s nothing I can do to stop this. I can’t think straight, and everything hurts, and nothing makes sense anymore. You’re shredding my heart with one hand and stroking his ego with the other. And it’s killing me, Faythe. You’re killing me. And it’s only going to get worse, now that everyone knows.”

“I have accomplished so much in my life, but I can take nothing with me when I go. Nothing except what’s in here.” He moved his hand between them and pressed it against his heart. “You’re in here. You’ve always been and you’ll always be. You are what I will take back.”

“He’s sorry, Chloe. He really is a sweet guy. Don’t be a bitch about this. And don’t screw it up. Just go over there. Give him a chance and, in no time, you’ll forget everything else.And that’s exactly why I stayed in my chair. I didn’t want to forget everything else, or the next thing I knew, he’d be back on that roof, putting his life in danger.“You don’t get to do this,” I said finally.“Do what?” He asked the question innocently enough, but his gaze dipped slightly. “I”m sorry. That’s what I’m trying to say, Chloe. That I’m sorry.”“For what?”He looked up, confused. “Making you mad.”I didn’t answer, just got up to leave. I made it as far as the door. Then he was there, behind me, hand on my elbow. I didn’t look back at him. I didn’t dare. But I stopped and I listened.“When I got mad about you leaving,” he said, “it wasn’t because I thought it was stupid or I didn’t think you’d be careful.”“You were just worried about me.”An exhale, relieved that I understood. “Yeah.”I turned. “Because you think I’m worth it.”He put his fingers under my chin. “I absolutely think you’re worth it.”“But you don’t think you are.”His mouth opened. Shut.“That’s what this is about, Derek. You won’t let us worry about you because you don’t think you’re worth it. But I do. I absolutely do.”

“I meant what I said before. You need to walk away, Pidge. God knows I can’t walk away from you.”I touched his arm. “You don’t want me to leave.”Travis’ jaws tensed again, and then he took me under his arm. He paused for a moment, and then kissed my forehead, pressing his cheek against my temple. “It doesn’t matter how hard I try. You’re going to hate me when it’s all said and done.”I wrapped my arms around him. “We have to be friends. I won’t take no for an answer,” I quoted.”

“He stood and looked at me for a moment, taking in my outfit. "You look hot.""What? Me?" I stammered, completely flummoxed."Yeah," he said, still looking at me."Oh. Um, thank you. I mean, not that you don’t, but I’m not sure that you should—I mean …""Oh, no," Roger said quickly, and I could see that he was blushing again. "No. I mean—I meant what you’re wearing. Are you going to be too warm?”