Defiant Princess (Boys of Oak Park Prep 2)

A fraction of space opened up between our bodies, and I could tell he was trying to slow this down, to stop it—even though neither of us wanted to.

He broke away from me after a while, taking another small step back. But before I could mourn the loss, he kissed me again.

And again.

Every time he tried to stop, I watched him cave. Like he kept trying to convince himself it was enough, but he never believed that lie.

I didn’t either.

Because every time his lips were on mine, it felt like I could breathe, and when he pulled away, oxygen seemed to vanish.

Finally, the space between our kisses drew out, like he was teaching himself to live without my touch. We hadn’t spoken since he first pressed his lips to mine, and he still didn’t say anything. He just gazed at me with burning blue eyes before dipping his head again, taking one last kiss. His hands slipped from my face, fingertips trailing down my jaw before finally dropping away, as if that too took effort.

When we stood a foot apart, no longer touching at all, he nodded slowly.

“You know.”

Then he ripped his gaze away from mine and walked back down the hall, turning and disappearing down the stairs.

My hand reached up to ghost over my lips, which felt tingly and swollen and… desolate without his.

I had recognized myself in Cole from the minute I’d heard the crack of his dad’s knuckles against his face while I hid under the couch in his dorm, and in a million other ways since then.

And in this empty hallway on the second floor of the gym, he had recognized me.

He had seen me.

Just like I had seen him.

My pulse pounded hard with that knowledge as I moved slowly after him, heading back to take up my abandoned post at the table downstairs.

I had done it.

I had opened the Princes’ hearts just like they’d opened mine last year. I had found their secrets and their lies, uncovered their weaknesses.

You have to get close to stick the knife in, Talia.

Those were the words I had repeated to myself over and over since I’d gotten here. The mission I had given myself, the purpose.

I had accomplished the first part.

But I no longer wanted to do the second.

Chapter 23

I still wasn’t sure it was the right decision.

But at least I had made a decision.

The internal conflict had raged so long inside me that making a choice felt like getting off an endlessly spinning ride, like I could breathe properly for the first time in weeks.

The little black notebook sitting in the side pocket of my backpack no longer felt like a block of cement tied around my ankles, dragging me down into murky waters. The knot of tension in my stomach that I’d grown used to living with eased a little.

My mother had made her own decisions, and I might never understand why.

Mason and the rest of the Princes had made theirs.

And I had made mine.