Jax glared at me for a long time. He was sitting across from me at Penelope’s tiny table, wrapping his fingers across the desk. The tension in the room was making my heart race and blood rush to my face. I hadn’t felt this way since my dad had caught me trying to sneak out when I was sixteen— I remembered the shame and embarrassment I’d felt then, and the feeling was similar now.
He didn’t speak. Ever so often he would glance around the room, pinch the bridge of his nose, and I’d think he was about to say something— and then he wouldn’t say anything at all. I thought maybe he was struggling to find words.
Finally, he spoke.
“I don’t think I have to tell you how dangerous what you did today really is, do I?” His jaw flexed.
I looked at the floor. “I didn’t think coming to the library
