Aiden snorts, but his eyes don't quit meet mine. "Getting high? Are you kidding? This power is so much more than that: We can heal with it, or paint a picture, play a prank, or build a house. We can fight, or support . . . The only limitations are your imagination, and the strength of your power. Someone like you could probably learn to move the Eiffel Tower without help."
I gape. "Me? But I couldn't even pull it in and make those flames by myself."
"Only because you don't know how."
"So show me!"
"I can't, not yet." Aiden sounds genuinely apologetic, but my alarm bells scream.
I stiffen. "I knew it. This is all a line—"
"No, it's not."
"—according to you I'm a natural, so unless you can deliver on that river of shit you spewed, you're just a used-car salesman."
He chuckles. "You're beautiful when you're pissed, you know."
