Page 21 of Her Nightshade

“I don’t know, I’d say you’re pretty good at chasing after me now.” Her smile widened as she looked up at me.

I laughed, though a part of me knew how true that was. “Yeah well, you make it worth the chase,” I shot back, leaning in a little closer.

And then, fucking Miles called out her name, stopping her in her tracks as she quickly turned around. His eyes pointed to a group now gathering, phones up, stopping to take pictures of us. I saw her eyes follow, narrowing in frustration as she muttered under her breath. “Let’s go. We’ll have coffee at home.”

Just like that, the moment we had shattered, and I felt the same surge of protectiveness rush through me again. I hated that something as simple as this had to be interrupted and taken away from us. I nodded, following her lead as we quickly headed down the street, her pace picking up, Miles close behind.

But as annoyed as I was, my plan worked. We were caught. Our pictures would be out in the world and now everyone would know she wasmine.As much as I hated the intrusion, there wasa twisted satisfaction in knowing that we couldn’t hide anymore. The world would see us together—see her withme.

I glanced over at Ana as we hurried along, feeling a small smile forming on my lips. She had no idea how much I wanted this, how much I craved the validation of being seen with her, making it official in a way neither of us had quite admitted yet.

* * *

I completely fucked up our omelettes. I tried to turn the omelette over, but as soon as I did, it fell apart in the pan. It was scrambled eggs now more than anything. I cursed under my breath, staring at the mess I made. I was too distracted, my eyes constantly drifting towards Ana as she scattered around the apartment, making calls, sending emails as she sat on the floor in front of the couch, completely restless. I couldn’t stop watching her and couldn’t focus on anything else. Every time she brushed her hair back or shifted positions, my attention was gone.

The ruined omelette was just the consequence of being completely consumed by her.

“Scrambled eggs are ready,” I announced playfully, bringing the mess of a brunch to the dining table, trying to make light of it. I set the plates down with a grin, hoping the disaster in the pan would be forgiven.

Ana glanced up from her phone, eyebrows raised, and then smirked when she saw the scrambled eggs instead of the omelettes I promised. “Well, at least you tried, my sweet boy,” she teased, standing up and heading over to the table.

The words hit me like lightning, igniting something deep inside. I hadn’t expected her to call me that outside of anything sexual. My chest tightened and I swallowed hard, trying to play it cool. She said it so casually, yet it carried so much weight forme.Toomuch. My cock began to harden and I had to walk away. This was such a nice, domesticated moment, and the last thing I wanted was to turn it into something sexual.

I gathered myself as I poured coffee for each of us, then made my way back to the table where she sat, waiting expectantly for me.

“I didn’t realize you were sodomesticado,” she teased playfully. “Thank you,” she added, her gaze softening as she looked down at her plate.

She was so sweet at that moment and it hit me—how disarming she could be. One minute she had me completely wound up, and the next, she was soft and unassuming, making me fall for her all over again.

“De nada, mi diosa,” I said just as playfully as I sat down across from her.

Her eyebrows lifted, a look of impressed surprise crossing her face. I lived for that look. “¿Hablas español?”

I shook my head, smiling. “No. But I’m a great student. I’d love for you to teach me,” I replied, leaning in slightly.

Her smirk grew, her eyes gleaming with that spark I craved. “We’ll see,” she said teasingly. The way she looked at me in that moment, half intrigued, half amused—I’d do anything to keep earning that.

We sat in silence for a moment as we ate when Ana’s phone began vibrating on the coffee table. She glanced back at it, the screen lighting up, and then looked at me hesitantly.

“You can take it,” I said with a nod, secretly delighted that she considered me before answering.

She went to fetch her phone, but when she saw who was calling, her face fell. She picked up the phone, her voice soft as she answered. “Hey.”

I watched as her eyes darted around the room and she began to slowly pace, listening intently. My stomach twistedwith an unfamiliar sense of jealousy. Someone was taking up her attention and it wasn’t me.

“Okay. Just keep quiet about it. We don’t need to say anything,” she said quietly.

Then it hit me—it was about the pictures. Excitement bubbled up inside me, but I kept it contained. She was too serious, too focused on keeping this contained for me to show how much I reveled in it.

“Yes,” she went on, suddenly glancing up at me with a spark in her eye. “We are.”

We arewhat?

My curiosity spiked, but before I could piece it together, her tone shifted. “Not every detail in my personal life needs to be shared with you, Marissa.”

I love seeing her feistiness come through and I could see her defenses kicking in. She was standing her ground, that edge to her voice coming out, and I felt a strange sense of pride at her protectiveness. But still, I was desperate to know what she was defending so fiercely and why I was starting to feel territorial all over again.

She sighed, turning her back to me. “Okay. Bye.” With a quick toss, she threw her phone onto the couch and faced me again, her expression a mix of frustration and resignation.

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