“Let’s get drunk,” I state, clinking my glass with his.“Sure you want to do that?” Dorian says with a raised eyebrow. He gives me that look a lot, probably because of all my questionable behavior. “I’m not sure of anything anymore,” I say with a cynical chuckle. “But I know I’m tired of disappointment. And I’m tired of keeping secrets. And I’m tired of fucking things up!”Dorian nods, understanding my frustration. “Do you want me to help you?” he asks quietly. I know what he means. Dorian is offering to fix me like he did the day before.“No,” I shake my head. “I want you to drink with me. Then I want you to do things to me that are as dirty and immoral as I already feel.” I take another hefty gulp and let the searing burn strip away the guilt and shame in my chest. “Ok, let’s get drunk.” And with that Dorian downs the entire contents of his glass and turns on the music.”

“Quit calling me Grey. It makes me sound like I’m a boy. Like Dorian Gray.”“Dorian who?”I sighed. “Just think up something else. Plain old Nora works too, you know.”“Sure thing, Gumdrop.”I grimaced. “I take that back. Let’s stick with Grey.”

“I’m lying on Cash’s chest, tracing his tattoo.“What does this mean?” I whisper.“It’s the Chinese symbol for awesome,” he teases lightly.I giggle. “If it’s not, which I imagine it isn’t, then it should be.”“Are you paying me a compliment? I just want to be sure, so I don’t miss it.”I slap his ribs. “You make it sound like I’m mean and horrible because I don’t throw myself at your feet.”“You don’t have to throw yourself at my feet. Although if you want to, I’m sure I can think of something for you to do while you’re down there.”I look up at him and he’s waggling his eyebrows again.“I’m sure you could.” Shaking my head, I settle back onto his chest and resume tracing the ink shapes. “Seriously, what do they mean?”Cash is quiet for so long I begin to think he’s not going to answer me. But then he finally speaks.“It’s a collage of things that remind me of my family.”

“He turns toward me. I want to touch him, but I’m afraid of his bareness; afraid that he will make me bare too.‘Is this scaring you, Tris?’‘No,’ I croak. I clear my throat. ‘Not really. I’m only…afraid of what I want.’‘What do you want?’ Then his face tightens. ‘Me?’Slowly I nod.”

“Being on that pitcher’s mound, it’s the one thing I’m really good at. The one thing I haven’t fucked up. And when I’m on the field, everything else fades away. You know?” He turned to look at me, his eyes craving understanding. I smiled and he continued. “It’s like my mind is clear when I’m out there. It’s not about my mom or my dad or the stupid shit I’ve done. It’s about me, the ball, and the batter. It’s the one place in the world where I feel like I’m in control. Like I have a say in what happens around me.”I stopped my head from nodding in agreement once I realized that I was doing it. “I feel that way when I’m taking pictures. Anything that I’m not seeing through my lens fades away in the background. And I get to frame my picture any way I choose. I get to dictate how it looks. What’s in it. What isn’t. Behind that lens I have complete control in how things are seen.”He smiled, his dimples indenting his cheeks. “You get it.”

“From Chloe's Secret--coming soon“What are you saying?”“I’m saying I want to have a relationship with you. I want to love you.”“Is there a ‘but’ coming next?”“But the funny thing is, when I didn’t want to love you—it happened anyway.”He slipped his arms into my back pockets and hugged the breath out of me. I choked, my eyes stung. “I don’t know what to say.”He smiled. “Say whatever you want to. Just because I said it, you don’t have to.”He was right; I didn’t have to. He wasn’t asking anything of me.”