Pure by Jennifer L. Armentrout Page B

great.”
    “It’s not great. What kind of connection is this? A one-way hotline to Pervyville?” I took a step forward, on a roll now. “It’s disgusting. Freaky—stop laughing, Seth!”
    “I can’t,” he gasped. “Of all the times for you to connect with me, and it had to be then? Damn Alex, I didn’t know you’re such a peeping—”
    I hit him hard on the arm. It wasn’t a playful tap. It would bruise. I wanted to do more—like kick him in the head.
    “Jeez. And you’re so violent. Do you know how hot—”
    I swung at him again, but this time Seth was prepared. He dodged my fist and caught me around the waist. Before I could even break his hold, he flipped me onto my back. This time he hovered above me, arms planted on either side of my head. A wild and beautiful smile chipped away at some of the coldness in his face. Not all of it, but some. “This is priceless.”
    “You are so annoying.”
    That seemed to amuse him even more. He laughed so hard I felt it rumble through me. Not in the way Aiden’s laugh usually did. Aiden’s laugh made me feel all light and fluttery. Seth’s made me feel weird—flushed and weird. And a part of me wanted to hear it again—or feel it again. Which was wrong—all kinds of wrong—because I didn’t think of him that way. At least my brain didn’t. My body, on the other hand, had a totally different viewpoint on these things.
    My body must be a sad, lonely thing.
    “You know,” Seth grinned, “you probably shouldn’t have told me this. I’m going to take advantage—Alex, what are you doing ?”
    I didn’t get what he was talking about at first. Then my eyes dropped and I saw my hand pressed against his stomach, my fingers curling around his shirt. How in the world did my hand get there, because surely— surely , I didn’t do that?
    Seth appeared on the verge of saying something ignorant, like always, but he became very, very still. I don’t even think he breathed. Slowly, I lifted my gaze and found what I expected. Swirling glyphs spread across the left side of his face. The intricate markings etched down his neck and disappeared under the hem of his black shirt, reappearing on his left arm and coming to stop over his hand.
    And Seth, well, Seth was no longer laughing. Those odd eyes caught mine and flared a heated tawny. He lowered his head; the loose strands of hair brushed my cheeks. I jerked my hand back, but he was still close, way too close. So I did the only thing suitable in situations like these. I shoved my knee into his stomach—hard.
    He rolled off me, onto his back, laughing once more. “Crap, Alex, why did you go and do that? Actually kind of hurt, you know?”
    I scrambled off the bed, putting as much distance between us as possible. “I hate you.”
    “No you don’t.” He tipped his head back, his gaze finding me. “I guess this was bound to happen. The more time we spend together, the more we’ll start connecting. It is the way of the Apollyons.”
    “Just go somewhere, why don’t you?”
    Seth flipped onto his stomach and rested his chin in his hands. “I’d love to. I could go for seconds with Elena right about now.”
    I let out a groan and rolled my eyes. “No one is stopping you.”
    “True, but then you’d fall asleep after pacing or reading some incredibly boring textbook and have another nightmare about Mommy, and then I’ll be awake all night long.” He arched one blond brow at me. “I do need my beauty sleep.”
    I glared at him. “You’re not staying here again, Seth. You have a bed—several, actually. Go.”
    “You didn’t care the last couple of times.”
    “Because … well, those times were different,” I sputtered, running a hand over my hair. Turning around, I started grabbing clothes off the floor. “I didn’t know you were staying. You just helped yourself.”
    Seth sighed. “You don’t like any of this, do you?”
    “No. I don’t like not being in control. You know that.” I grabbed