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“I don’t want to...be like this,” I whispered as I looked away, and once I said it, I didn’t even want to take the words back. A weird sensation hit me, almost like...like relief. That didn’t make sense. Or did it? “I don’t like who I am.” My gaze returned to his, and the concern was still there, filling his hazel eyes and thinning out his mouth. Tears crawled up the back of my throat. Humiliating actually, to admit something so intimate like that, but now I wasn’t the only one who knew this about myself. It wasn’t my secret. “It’s okay. You’re not going to feel that way forever.” Rider smoothed his thumb along my jaw. I closed my eyes, wanting to believe him. Needing to. He kept his voice low as he spoke. “Nothing lasts forever, Mouse.”

“Your scars are beautiful,' he said, and there was a swift, swelling motion in my chest that couldn't be deflated no matter what my brain yelled at it. 'But I refuse to allow your body to be scarred again.' My heart started thumping once more. 'You say that like you mean it.' 'Because I do.”

“Have I told you that you're beautiful?' 'What?' The shift in conversation threw me. 'I might have, but I couldn't remember if I did,' he went on, tugging gently on the strap. 'Then I thought that it wasn't something you could say too often. You're beautiful, Poppy.' My stupid, stupid heart skipped. 'Is that why you decided to wake me up in the middle of the night?' 'You're beautiful.' HIs head tilted, and I gasped at the feel of his lips on the longer scar on my cheek. He kissed that one and then the shorter one, above my eye. 'Both halves, and you should never question why anyone would find you utterly, irrevocably, and distractingly beautiful.' The skipping was back, but I ignored it. 'That is a lot of adjectives.' 'I can come up with more.' 'That won't be necessary,' I advised. 'So, now that you've told me this, you can get off me.' He smiled against my cheek. 'But you're comfortable, Princess.”

“Half of her face is a masterpiece,' the Duke murmured, and my skin flushed cold and then hot as my stomach twisted. 'The other half a nightmare.' A tremor coursed down my arms, but I kept my chin high and resisted the urge to pick up something, anything, and throw it at the Duke's face. The Duchess spoke, though, saying what, I wasn't sure. Hawke's gaze remained fastened on mine as he stepped forward. 'Both halves are as beautiful as the whole.”

“You are...' His stare was intense and unblinking, as he sheathed his sword at his side. 'You're absolutely magnificent. Beautiful.' I jolted, shocked. He'd said that I was beautiful before once he saw my face, and he sounded like he'd meant it then. But now? He'd spoken words which too often meant nothing and too rarely meant everything.”

“It's just that... gods, there are a lot of reasons why I don't understand how you can be this intrigued. You've seen me.' My faced heated and I sincerely hoped he couldn't see it. I hated saying it, but it was a reality. 'You've seen what I look like-' 'I have, and I think you already know what I think. I said it in front of you, in front of the Duke, and I told you outside the Great Hall-”

“I'm not afraid to speak the truth. He may be powerful, but he's just a weak man, who proves his strength by attempting to humiliate those more powerful than he is. Someone like you, with your strength? It makes him feel incompetent- which he is. And your scars? They are a testament to your fortitude. They are proof of what you survived. They are evidence of why you are here when so many twice your age wouldn't be. They're not ugly. Far from it. They're beautiful, Poppy.”

“You’re beautiful, too. I mean, you’re hot,” I blurted out. “But I always knew you would be.” My eyes widened as I realized what just streamed out of my mouth, and his grin turned into a smile. “Oh my God, I did not just say...any of that out loud.” “You did.” “Ugh.” Tipping his head back, he laughed deeply. And he laughed like he had in those rare instances when something truly amused him. He did so with a freedom I’d envied. I started to place my hands over my flaming face, but he caught my wrists, holding them between us. His eyes were lighter, dancing. “I can pretend you didn’t say that if that makes you feel better,” he suggested. Oh yes, that would be fabulous. I nodded. “I won’t forget it, though.”

“Can I tell you something?” “Yeah.” I wished I could tell him it was okay to keep touching my face, but that would probably be weird. Totally sounded weird in my head. And would be really inappropriate. Totally inappropriate. His lashes lowered and the lopsided grin appeared. “I always knew you’d be beautiful one day.” My breath hitched as I sat straighter. What was left of the pizza, just the crust, was totally forgotten. My ears had to be smoking crack or something. A flush swept across his cheeks as one side of his lips kicked up. “I just never thought I’d get to see how beautiful you’d become.”

“There is one more thing I need. Something that I've needed for days. Weeks. Months. Maybe forever.' The bridge of his nose brushed mine. 'But I know you won't allow it. Not like this.' The pounding in my chest moved lower. 'What... what have you needed for so long?' 'You.' I shuddered. 'So, maybe, just for a few minutes, when no one is looking- when there's no one but us- we can pretend.' Leaning into the cupboard, I felt dizzy, as if I weren't getting enough air into my lungs. 'Pretend?' 'We pretend that there's no yesterday. No tomorrow. It's just us, right now, and I can be Hawke,' he said in the heated space between us. I shook once more. He touched my cheek, sending a bolt of awareness through me. His fingers drifted over my chin, my lower lip. 'You can just be Poppy, and we can simply share a kiss.' 'A kiss?' He nodded. 'Just pretend.' His lips now a whisper against my cheek. 'Just a kiss.”

“You’re right.” A wicked little grin tugged at his lips. “I think we should celebrate.” Pausing, he waggled his brows at me. “We have fifty minutes now. I only need, like, five of them.” “Oh my God,” I laughed, shoving at his shoulders. “You’re terrible.” “I’m not terrible.” His eyes met mine, and the flutter was back, deeper and more dizzying. “I’m in love.” Oh, gosh. My heart swelled like a balloon, and all I could do was stare at him for several seconds before I managed to whisper, “I love you, too.” “I know.” Rider lowered his mouth to mine, and the kiss scattered my thoughts.”

“Before I could protest, which wouldn’t be wise even though I did want him to hang out longer, he placed his hands on my cheeks. My breath stalled out somewhere between my throat and chest. Leaning in, he pressed his lips against my forehead, dropping a kiss that squeezed my heart into slush. My eyes drifted shut as his lips lingered against my skin. Knocked off-kilter, I didn’t move when he pulled back and stood.”

“Rider made this sound in the back of his throat. It was deep and masculine, part groan and growl, and it made me shiver. He folded one hand along my cheek and lowered his head to mine, but he didn’t kiss me. No. His warm breath glided over my forehead as his hand slid across my cheek, his fingers spreading into my hair at the base. His other hand landed low on my back, and the weight did insane things to my insides. He drew it up my back, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. My eyes fluttered shut as his lips brushed over the curve of my cheek. It was the craziest torture. My entire body tensed, prepared for the moment when his lips met mine. And it was the sweetest pressure, a feather-light brush of his lips over mine. Once. Then twice. I felt the touch everywhere, a jolt to the system that zipped through my veins, and then the pressure increased. Rider kissed me then. It was a real one, soft and beautiful, and when the kiss deepened, it wasn’t a shy one. He knew what he was doing, and even though I didn’t, an innate knowledge told me it didn’t matter. His lips mapped out mine, and my insides were in tight coils. Kissing was awesome. Amazing. Astonishing. I could probably think of a couple of more words to describe it. Kissing blew me away, and when he lifted his mouth, both of us were breathing hard. He rested his forehead against mine. Neither of us spoke for several moments. I still wasn’t thinking. I had no idea how my hands had gotten to Rider’s chest, but his heart pounded under my palm as fast as mine did. My mind was blissfully blank as I breathed in his scent, a mix of his citrusy cologne and the faint trace of paint. “Did you like that?” he asked, dragging his fingers out of my hair and over the line of my jaw. Screaming yes, oh, God, yes, would’ve probably been a little too excessive, so I managed a somewhat subdued, “Yes.” As Rider grinned, his lips brushed mine. “Good. Because I really liked it.”

“Dropping his arm from my shoulders, he reached down and folded his hand around mine. It wasn’t the first time he’d held my hand, but there was an intimacy there that hadn’t been present before. A tight shiver curled its way down my spine as his thumb moved along my palm while we walked down to class. He had not done that before. Rider let go of my hand when we entered speech, and I stepped in front of him, walking toward my seat. I dropped my bag on the floor and started to sit when Rider swooped down, kissing my cheek once more. I flushed as I glanced over at him. He grinned as he sat. “Couldn’t help myself. Your cheek looked like it was missing my kiss.”

“Is there anything else you need my assistance with?' 'Need? No.' His head turned to the side. A lock of bronze hair fell against his cheek. 'Want? Yes. But that would be selfish of me. I prefer to be greedy.' 'Are they not the same thing?' 'Not in my opinion. Greedy is not necessarily a solitary act,' he replied.”