Chapter Twenty-Six

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Briar doesn't speak while retying my stitches, and I can't think of anything to cut the tension. His hand shakes, just the slightest of tremors, as he finishes bandaging my arm. A drop of water splotches onto the back of his hand and he looks up; I realize I'm crying.

"I've really messed up this time, haven't I?" I whisper. Now that the adrenaline has vanished, I can't get Shark's anger out of my head. If I was concerned about my placement before, my behavior just now cannot have improved my outlook.

Briar swallows hard, then says, "I'm not sure. I've already put myself out there with the other trainers on your behalf. There's not much more I can do to defend you. We'll just have to see how the pieces fall."

He sounds devastated, which is touching, but also makes my stomach twist with discomfort. There can only be one reason he'd be so concerned with keeping me here, and as much as I enjoy Briar as my trainer, I don't care for him in that way.

So I don't ask why he's gone to such trouble. I don't want to hear him say it out loud. I don't want to have to acknowledge his feelings, to come up with a flattered response that leaves no doubt I don't reciprocate them.

And he doesn't offer anything more. I leave without another word.

When I get back to my room, I pull up short. Kaz sits on the edge of my bed, hands folded and draped over his knees. He lifts his head to me when I enter.

"Thought you'd be gone." He doesn't smile, but I'm sure there's a flicker of hope in his eyes.

"You were right; I never really belonged to that world." I give him a hesitant smile. The corners of his mouth lift, slowly responding.

"I've been such an idiot these past few days."

I laugh, the movement causing my puffy eyes to ache a bit. "Yeah you have." I'm not upset anymore, just tired.

Kaz comes over to me and hesitates, then touches my cheek with his thumb. "You've been crying?"

"A little."

He rests his forehead against mine and closes his eyes. "I'm so sorry," he breathes.

It doesn't seem to matter now, not with his hand on the side of my face and his lips so close to mine.

I don't want to let this chance sneak by like last time. I inhale for courage and then close the gap between our mouths. His lips are soft and warm and very responsive under my own. The hand on my cheek shifts, his fingers raking into my hair. His other arm comes up and presses into the small of my back. My own hands grip the back of his t-shirt, pressing me closer.

Too soon, he pulls back, his breathing ragged.

"Nadia," he whispers, then gulps.

I want to question him, but I'm afraid of what he'll say. The memory of a "Ken doll" flashes through my mind. Is Kaz afraid people will make fun of him? Would the term even apply to our situation, since I'm no longer Viry?

After another minute or two of strained silence, he says, "That's a new bandage."

"A couple of my stitches busted." I don't want to talk about that, though. I just want to kiss him again; I'm both excited and petrified by the new feelings I experienced when our lips touched.

Instead, I settle cross-legged on the foot of my bed. Kaz sits across from me, keeping a carefully respectful distance.

Neither of us speaks, and I can't come up with anything to change that. I try to stop thinking about kissing Kaz.

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