Nico
Two times in a row.
The realization tasted more bitter than the bile rising in my throat as the jet took another sickening plunge.
In just a few days of meeting in person, Alaric de Villier had uncovered two of my best-kept secrets, and I hated him for it. I hated him for the way he looked at me now, and I hated myself for the fact that I couldn't stop pushing his buttons just to see him burn.
First, there was that dark hallway incident, where I had clung to him like a frightened child, my pride practically out the window as I begged him to hold me until the lights came back on. Now this—the turbulence had shattered my mask again, sending me rushing across the aisle to him like he was the only solid thing in a world that had gone liquid.
