PROLOGUE
EZRA
The ceramic snowmansitting on the countertop glares at me with his beady little eyes. It’s creepy as fuck, and I have the feral urge to paw it to the edge of the counter and knock it off like a cat.
I’ve always hated this time of year.
Something is suffocating about it—the forced cheer, the empty promises of fresh starts that everyone seems to cling to.
Can’t relate.
I’ll be the same miserable asshole next year as I was this year and every other.
I’m sure it has a lot to do with my childhood, or lack thereof. Childhood implies there was a stage of development before I had to act like an adult—Jean Piaget would be sorely disappointed in my lack of proper cognitive milestones.
Kruz loves it, though.
The time of year, that is. Not the fact that I’m a miserable asshole.
Though maybe she loves that too.
Or at least I used to think she did.
She loves the snow, the lights, the goddamn peppermint-flavored everything.
I’d never admit it, but it’s part of what I love about her, how easily she falls head over heels into things that make her happy. It’s something I can’t personally connect with. Something I envy, and I suppose that in a way, I live vicariously through her joy.
I also envy the attention and adoration she gives to anything that isn’t me, including the inanimate things.
Yes, I am jealous of fucking candy canes. I used to be her favorite thing to suck and lick.
But of course, I ruined that like everything else.
This time last year, we were barely finding our footing in our relationship, but I had already fallen hard and fast. Even then, it was hard for me to hold back from her.
It’s been over a year since the last mess with the Assembly—since Stu went off the deep end, kidnapping Quinn to carve the chip we so desperately needed right out of her arm.
We had a plan, a safe way to remove it—something medical, a hospital visit under some other pretense—but he didn’t care.
He was just as unhinged as her father for putting it there in the first place. I have no doubt he would have killed her if I hadn’t gotten there in time.
She and Jack still have no idea I was ever involved.
Neither does Kruz. I’ve spent most of that time trying to convince myself I could stop thinking about her while planning my next steps.
I can’t,obviously.
Not when she’s still walking around campus like she doesn’t own my every thought.
We fucked for months—just over six.
I remember every detail about her. Every time she rolled her eyes, every dip and curve of her body, every sarcastic comment, every sound she’s ever made for me, every touch she thinks I’ve forgotten.
I could never forget her or anything about her, even when she pulled away. Slowly at first—spacing out our hookups, seeing other people, pretending that none of it mattered.
I know better.
She’s cute, though.
