Shatter-Me-PDF-Shatter-Me-Series-Shatter-Me-Shatter-Me-1-Tahereh-Mafi (1)

wanted to touch him I’m not sure I’d be able to. He’s
protecting himself.
From me.
“Perhaps a conversation for tomorrow night?” He cocks a
brow and offers me his arm. I pretend not to notice it as we
walk off the elevator and down the hall. “Maybe you could
wear something nice.”
“What’s your first name?” I ask him.
We’re standing in front of my door.
He stops. Surprised. Lifts his chin almost imperceptibly.
Focuses his eyes on my face until I begin to regret my
question. “You want to know my name.”
I don’t do it on purpose, but my eyes narrow just a bit.
“Warner is your last name, isn’t it?”
He almost smiles. “You want to know my name.”
“I didn’t realize it was a secret.”
He steps forward. His lips twitch. His eyes fall, his lips draw
in a tight breath. He drops a gloved finger down the apple of
my cheek. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” he
whispers, too close to my neck.
I inch backward. Swallow hard. “You already know my
name.”
He’s not looking at my eyes. “You’re right. I should
rephrase that. What I meant to say was I’ll tell you mine if
you show me yours.”
“What?” I’m breathing too fast too suddenly.
He begins to pull off his gloves and I begin to panic. “Show
me what you can do.”
My jaw is too tight and my teeth have begun to ache. “I
won’t touch you.”
“That’s all right.” He tugs off the other glove. “I don’t
exactly need your help.”
“No—”
“Don’t worry.” He grins. “I’m sure it won’t hurt you at all.”
“No,” I gasp. “No, I won’t—I can’t—”