Carnival of Secrets by Melissa Marr Page B

I can’t be with a normal boy because it’s too dangerous for both of us. She couldn’t admit those sorts of secrets—even to someone who made her feel like her blood had just become liquid fire. All she knew was that the thought of him leaving her life made her feel panic. It was just a kiss, she told herself. But the way he looked at her made her believe that it was more than that—for both of them.
    “Kiss me again,” she said.
    He didn’t build from tentative to feverish; he started with the sort of kiss that asked questions she didn’t know how to answer, the sort of kiss that reminded her how little she knew about him and quickly made her forget everything she knew about caution. If the boys she’d kissed before had been like him, she wouldn’t still be a virgin, but no one else had made her feel like she could be happy spending the rest of eternity kissing. It was perfect.
    It was also exceedingly stupid. They barely knew each other, and no amount of physical connection would bridge the gulf of secrets that she had to keep between them.
    She pulled away and put a hand on his chest to keep him at a distance. What do I really know about him? They’d run into each other a number of times over the past month, when he’d said he was home from school, but a few casual conversations and a soul-searing kiss or two weren’t reason enough to ignore all common sense. Hours of defense training had made her feel confident that she could handle anything boys tried, but in all of what she’d learned, there weren’t any lessons on how to avoid feeling like a skeeze because you reacted to a boy’s kisses like a cat discovering catnip.
    “I think you need to go,” she said as steadily as she was able.
    “I will go wherever you tell me. I want to see you again. I need to see you.” There was something desperate in his eyes and in his voice, and she wondered if it was the same urgency she felt.
    Kaleb lifted his hand and caressed her cheek. “Please?”
    “I’m moving tonight ,” she said.
    “I’ll come to you anywhere,” he promised.
    “You hardly even know me.”
    “I want to know you though. Are you going to punish me for just now finding you?” he asked.
    “No, but . . .” She vacillated between wanting to believe him and doubting every word.
    “Do you kiss everyone that way? Or did that feel like . . . magic? Like something unusual? If it didn’t, tell me to go, but if it did”—he shook his head and stared straight into her eyes—“admit that. I swear to you, Mallory, I’ve never felt like that because of a kiss.”
    She looked directly at him, refusing to be embarrassed. “It was perfect, but one kiss doesn’t mean—”
    “It could.” His hand slid up her back, and she closed her eyes as he whispered, “Tell me I can visit you. Please?”
    “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” she hedged. She couldn’t think of anyone she’d ever felt so at ease around, anyone she instinctively wanted to trust, and she certainly hadn’t ever wanted anyone as much.
    “Why?” He watched her, waiting for her answer, and she had to restrain herself from kissing him again.
    She couldn’t answer.
    He didn’t move. He simply asked, “Tell me where you’re going. Please?”
    “What if it’s too far?”
    Kaleb laughed softly. “Nowhere is too far.”
    She clenched her hands, trying not to touch him. Now that they’d kissed, it seemed so easy, so natural, to pull him back to her.
    He wouldn’t object.
    Her mouth felt dry, and she took another steadying breath. She reached up to touch the skin where her pendant rested under her shirt. It was a silly habit from childhood that she’d never quite surrendered. The stone pendant was from her mother’s family, and her mother had made her promise repeatedly to never let it out of her reach. Mallory wrapped her hand around it for comfort.
    All the while, Kaleb stayed completely still, watching her, waiting for her.
    Mallory felt half dazed as she