Page 112 of Heart of Thorns

“This is me proving to you that I hate you.” I climb off his lap, grab my shirt, and slip it back on. I stare at him from across the locker room. He’s still on the bench with his pants undone, flushed cheeks, and an angry glare in my direction.

I cross my arms. “Get out.”

His head tilts, but he makes no move to listen to me.

“I said, get out.” This time my voice is a little more firm. So firm, I don’t think he noticed the quiver toward the end.

Thorne drops his head. He’s white-knuckling the bench but then he chuckles.

I’m hot with anger.

God, maybe I do fucking hate him.

“I get it,” he says. “You’re trying to give me a dose of my own medicine.”

“No—”

Thorne stands abruptly, and words die on the end of my lips.

He stalks over to me too quickly, and I freeze.

It seems like I’m holding my ground, but really, I’m not.

His hand gets lost in my hair with the forceful tipping of my chin. “You want me to chase you, kitten? Prove to you that I care about you? Tell you how wrong I was for pushing you awayto focus on something that couldn’t in a million years be more important than you and your safety?”

I remain quiet. My lip wobbles with unshed emotion.

“Stop fighting me,” he pleads, dragging his thumb across my bottom lip.

I angrily whip my face away. “Why? So you can just throw it in my face that I’m just this big distraction to the thing you love the most? I gave you an out, Thorne! But here you are, showing up like fucking Prince Charming.”

Thorne grips my chin again and forces me to look at him.

“I was wrong.”

My jaw clenches.

“I didn’t think I could love something more than football, and then you came along with your cute little scowls and all-black clothing that only you can pull off. You stuck through the worst dinner of your life, took being openly offended by my parents, andstillfucking came to my game after I fucked up and hurt you.” His brow furrows, and the grip on my chin gets heavier. “The truth is, it scared the hell out of me to see you terrified. I freaked out because this thing between us isn’t fake to me.”

Thorne’s face grows blurry. The knot in my throat tightens.

“You can stick to your guns, kitten. Pretend you hate me, claw my back, run just so I’ll chase after you—” My head flies backward with a harsh tug on my hair. “Because I will, Briar. I’ll fucking chase you.”

The locker room is hazy.

I can’t think straight.

I was so dead set on hurting him like he hurt me, but I can’t do it.

Some people are worth the heartbreak. And I think he’s one of them.

Thorne steps closer, and I move backward. We do this until my back hits the wall behind me.

“What’ll it be, kitten?” He cups both of my hands in one of his, bringing them up and over my head. He traps me. I couldn’t run even if I wanted to. “Are you going to soften for me? Let me break through that wall you’ve thrown up to keep me out? Or pretend like you still hate me?”

I stare at his perfect mouth.

“I guess we’ll see after you fuck me,” I whisper.