Page 36 of The Dark Before Light

“You all right?” There’s enough heat in his voice to turn up the temperature of the ocean. “Let me know if I can help.”

“Stop talking,” I snap.

His dark chuckle only makes matters worse.

I finally resort to thinking about Alan—who hasn’t stopped calling me despite my clear communication that we aren’t happening—and the unsolicited dick pic he sent me this morning. On my to-do list for the weekend is a phone call to Mia, as I’m pretty sure he sent the photo from his office at the middle school.

The mental image of Alan’s underwhelming, half-erect penis does the trick, instantly shutting down my libido. After a few deep breaths, I glare at a smug Kieran.

“Would you like to explore why you’re so comfortable loading innuendo into a conversation about your parents?”

His laugh is immediate, loud, and long. While his delight is intoxicating, I keep a straight face. Thanks, Alan.

Kieran sobers with effort, wiping tears from his lashes. “I’m sorry,” he says, trying not to laugh again. “God, I can’t seem to help myself around you. Getting a rise out of you is too satisfying.”

“Let me know when you’re done.”

“Yep. Right. Carry on with the interrogation.”

I swallow an exasperated sigh. “How did your father typically respond when your mother confronted him?”

A grin flashes. “He’d sputter until she laughed him from the room. My dad’s more the traditional sort. Stereotypical gender roles and all that. Not to say he was bad to our mam. He thought she hung the moon, just…” He trails off.

“Sometimes he treated her like she was breakable instead of powerful enough to control tides?”

Surprise flickers over his features. “Nail on the head. But I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. They had a happy marriage. Loved each other madly. I know I’m lucky.”

I press a mental bookmark to the fact that despite his clear admiration and love for his mother, he’s habitually chosen partners who emulate a different type of woman.

“I need to apologize,” I tell him softly. “I shouldn’t have called you a misogynist. I know you don’t hate women, Kieran.”

I half-expect him to make a joke, but he doesn’t. “I appreciate that, but I don’t blame you for saying it. I still feel bad about the unhinged shit I’ve said to you.” He grimaces. “That I keep saying to you.”

Before I can think better of it, I tell him, “Think about what happens when two alphas of the same species meet.”

His eyes narrow, glinting with the type of intelligence that intoxicants can mellow but never truly dent. “Competition. Are you’re implying we’re in a war for resources and breedable females, Stirling?”

“Hypothetically speaking, yes. Me being a woman is merely information you’ve exploited in an attempt to assert dominance over me. We’re animals, Kieran. And we’re alphas.”

He stares me a beat, then shifts in his seat and looks away. “Jesus. How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

His eyes pin me, almost accusing. “See me so clearly?”

A crack appears in the wall around my heart; I patch it, then pick my next words carefully. “Ever since I can remember, I’ve been fascinated with people. What makes them tick. It started with my family and expanded from there. Growing up, I heard ‘stop staring, Talia’ multiple times a day.” I shrug. “You could say I turned my voyeuristic tendencies into a career. I understand people instinctively. I see their layers, fault lines, and strengths. All the hidden treasures of the psyche. My first impressions are rarely wrong.”

He stares at me. “Huh.”

“What?” I ask tentatively.

“Just… all of that. Talia.”

My heart rattles. “Dr. Stirling.”

“Stirling,” he says unsmiling. “And your first impression of me?”

Fierce and fractured. A footstep from the void. A puzzle of constantly moving pieces, each of them breathtaking beyond words.

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