The Naturals, Book 2: Killer Instinct

“Yeah,” he said, his voice carrying on the wind. “That’s what I thought.”

“You want me to tell you what you feel. I want you to know.”

“You want me to tell you what you feel. I want you to know.”

“I’m not good at mingling, or at parties. I say the wrong thing. I do the wrong thing. I know that—but even numbers are better than odd, and if I’d been there, Lia wouldn’t have had to go off alone.”

“If it had been me in the woods, if I’d been the one to go with Briggs, if I’d been the one you saw at the exact second…”

If I’d chosen Michael, Dean would have understood.

From the moment Dean had come back to the house, from the moment Michael had laid eyes on him, he knew.

“I was wrong,” he said, “when I said I just felt something.” He was breathing heavily. I couldn’t breathe at all. “When I said I wasn’t sure it was enough.”

“Cassie.” Dean broke through the brush.

I know that you care about him. I know that you’re attracted to him. I know that when he hurts, it hurts you. I know that he never looks at you the way he looks at Lia, that you’re not a sister to him. I know that he wants you. He’s in over his head with you.