Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly

I wave my hand back over my shoulder in the general direction
that my shoes had gone. Then, while my eyes are locked on his lips,
his tongue darts out to catch an extra drop of water at the corner
of his mouth. I sort of shudder all over and I think it’s with only the
biggest display of willpower that I don’t whimper.
His mouth kicks up at one side in that cocky grin.
Like he knows just what kind of thoughts I’m having.
That shakes me out of it.
I drag my eyes away from his lips and focus on his eyes—his
bright blue, hypnotic . . .
“My shoes,” I say as forcefully as possible. “I tossed them in the
woods. Get them back.”
“Why would you throw your—”
“Because I couldn’t get them unknotted, thank you very much.”
“Oh,” he mouths, scowling. As if he hadn’t realized I couldn’t
untie his supernatural knot.
Then, before I can blink, he holds out his hand to the woods and
then my shoes are there—laces unknotted and tied into neat little
bows. He holds them out to me and, as soon as I take them, turns
and walks away.
I stare after him, confused.
I feel like I’ve missed something again, like I should thank him
for undoing the rotten thing he did in the first place. Like he’s
pushing me away and pulling me in at the same time.
And I thought girls were supposed to be the complicated ones.
Forcing myself to forget Griffin and his contradictions, I slip
back into my shoes and start for Damian’s house. No point hang-
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