He was so close, almost stealing her breath. She fumbled for words. “Well, I didn’t know what you ”

Gabriel kissed her.

Thank god his hands were there, catching her arms, because her knees didn’t feel up to the job of keeping her on her feet. He tasted like coffee and caramel and sugar. She’d always imagined he would be rough, but he wasn’t. He was gentle, cautious, drawing at her lips in a way that pulled a sound from her throat and made her want to press up against him.

Oh. This was what all the fuss was about.

His hands slid up her arms to find her face, his fingers tangling in her hair. His kiss grew more insistent, parting her lips.

At the first brush of his tongue, she gasped and knew her knees were going to give out.

But then Gabriel stepped back, his hands braced on her shoulders. She was left shaking there in the middle of the path, wind coming off the water to whip through the space between them.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was rough, almost ashamed. “I didn’t think . . . after the way that ass**le treated you ”

She shook her head fiercely. “No it’s fine ”

“I should have waited.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

Her breath stumbled when the words escaped, and she felt her cheeks burn.

But he smiled. “Yeah?”

She couldn’t move. Right then, she realized he’d been right, about the running. She wanted to run, before his hold on her heart got any tighter.

He leaned closer, until she could see his eyes. The smile was gone. “Do you want me to let you go?”

No. Never. She closed her eyes and nodded.

A hesitation, then, “I think you’re lying.”

She was. But in what freakish world would a guy like Gabriel Merrick be standing with her in the dark, at the water’s edge, sharing kisses and secrets?

He closed that space between them again, until the line of his body just brushed hers. She couldn’t breathe.

“Do you want me to let you go?” he said again.

She swallowed. “No.”

He dropped his head and ran his lips along the edge of her jaw, and the warmth of his breath made her shiver and lean into him. His hands slid down her arms to catch her waist.

She froze and grabbed his wrists.

He went still and spoke against her skin. “Does it hurt?”

Layne shook her head, feeling fire on her cheeks for an entirely different reason. She kept hearing Ryan’s voice. She’s all deformed under there.

God, she hated him. Them. Everyone.

Don’t cry. Don’t.

But her emotions were all over the place, and she could barely keep them contained. She didn’t even realize Gabriel had pulled her along the path until she felt wood planks against the backs of her knees, and he was saying, “Sit.”

A bench. She sat. The wood felt rough through her tights, but sturdy. The tears had held back so far, and she said a quick prayer of thanks.

“You should probably take me home,” she said.

He leaned in to brush the hair back from her face, and it felt so good that she wanted to catch his hand and hold it there. But she didn’t.

“Do you really want me to?” he said.

No, she didn’t. She shook her head and looked out at the inky water.

He leaned closer. “Want to play more truth or dare?”

I dare you to kiss me like that again.

“Truth,” she whispered.

“Truth. Hmm.” He stroked his thumb against her mouth, then brushed his lips against her cheek, moving to kiss the curve of her ear. “Who’s a better kisser? Me or jerkoff Stacey?”

It was so unexpected that she burst out laughing. “You,” she said. “Ugh, he was all slobbery and ”

“Okay, okay, don’t need the visual.” He paused. “Truth.”

She sobered. “Do you think I’m a freak?”

“No.” He was playing with the edge of her turtleneck now, running his finger along her neck in a way that made her wish she’d said to hell with the scars and had worn a tank top.

But then she caught his hand again. “Don’t you care?”

“Care?”

Anger had her shifting on the bench, ready to unleash the rage she should have poured into that idiot by the pool. “That I’m all deformed?”

“I think you’re beautiful,” he said. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the day you fixed my test, when you stood up to me in the hallway.”

She brushed his hand away. “You have not.”

“Yes. I have. I didn’t even tell Nicky about you, and I tell him everything.” He paused, and his voice found an edge. “Almost everything.”

Layne studied his profile in the darkness. He’d told her this morning that he and his twin weren’t speaking. She wondered what had happened there.

But that edge in his voice warned her to tread carefully. If she asked, he might not tell her, and this tentative trust would be shot to hell. They’d be back at square one.

She didn’t want to turn back. Not now.

“I’ve never told anyone everything.” She took a deep breath.

“I’ve never told anyone any of it.”

Everything felt fragile again. She stared at him in the darkness, wanting to take that final leap, unsure whether he’d catch her.

And then, just like when she was bolting blindly for the water, he did.

“I’ll keep your secrets,” he said softly.