![]() Deadworld
-- EXCERPT: “You have a slight concussion. And it’s perfectly natural to be confused after a blow to the head.” I reached up to touch the back of my head and probed gingerly, wincing when I hit the tender spot. I hated this fuzzy feeling. This strange, helpless flutter inside me. “I can’t remember what happened. God, I hate this.” “It may come back to you, it may not.” Emory smiled kindly. “Don’t worry too much about it. All that matters is that you’re all right.” A lock of his silver-blond hair had fallen across his forehead, and before I could stop myself, I’d reached up and brushed it back. He froze. His pupils dilated and fixed on me, and then he let out a sharp exhalation and quickly stood and put distance between us. His gloved hands hovered at his pockets, but in the end, he settled for clenching them at his sides. Oh, shit, Emory was a stickler for his personal space, and I’d just violated it. “Sorry, I … I have no idea why I did that.” “It’s fine.” His tone was easy and smooth, but the clenched fists gave him away. I’d rattled him. “Just get some rest. Danika will give you some pills for the headache. Take the rest of the day off.” What? “No.” He canted his head. “No? Echo, you just fell twenty feet into a chasm.” “I don’t want the others to think I’m getting special treatment.” His frown was incredulous. “Special treatment? Of course you’re getting special treatment.” He leaned in slightly and enunciated his next words. “You just fell into the chasm.” Incredulity had morphed into irritation, and although I’d seen him annoyed before, it was usually a flick of the brows, or a twitch of the lips; he never exploded, never raised his voice. But Finn’s revelation as to why the other guys hadn’t accepted me was prominent in my mind, and maybe it was the fall, maybe it was the damn concussion, but my mouth decided to speak the thoughts running through my mind. “The heart keepers think you’re favoring me because we’re lovers.” The sentence tumbled out and then sat between us like a bomb waiting to be defused. Emory went very still. Was he holding his breath? Was I? I pressed my fingers to my temple, wishing I could take the words back just to wipe the look of horror from his face. A look that was not good for my ego. ![]()
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