Page 79 of Nash

“So what now?” I whisper.

“We wait.”

“Wait for what? Gunfire? ThosePOW,BIF,BLAMcartoon fight onomatopoeias to appear out of thin air?”

Jace shakes his head. “God, you’re gonna make this dangerously fun.”

“Make what fun?”

He doesn’t answer.

“So now you take a vow of silence?”

“We all did.”

“Who’s we?”

Again, I’m talking to a silent mountain of muscle.

“Can I tickle it out of you?”

“Don’t,” he advises. “Because one, I’m cursed with ticklish spots. Two, my brothers tortured me over it growing up. And three, Nash will kill me if you touch me.”

“But it would bemetouchingyou. It would be my fault.”

“Again, Nash will killme.”

“How well do you know him?”

“Like a brother.”

“How well do you know him…” I’m probing. I’m dying to know because if I can crack any nut, it’s Jace. “As aking?”

“Vale, don’t ask or use that word.” His husky voice seethes, “Don’t let your mouth dig your grave deeper.”

“Uh! Don’t tempt me with threats like that!” I rant. “Now Ireallywant to know because I know it’s something kinky, and I’m not opposed. Hell, we work in a sex shop. You give me sex toy reviews on the daily. You’ve been my wingman in a sex club. You’ve held my hair when I threw up, and I’ve smelled your neck, helping you pick colognes.” Pause. “You smell yummy today, by the way.” His brow twitches. “We’ve worked together for over two years, and I know you love me in a sweet way, so tell me, what does it mean to be a king?”

“It’s not kinky; it’s sacred,” he scolds. “And fuck…” He shakes his head, “Quit trying to make me talk.”

“Sacred? What do you me?—”

“Vale,” he warns, “I’m supposed to protect you, and that’s about to involve me locking you in that pantry to protect you from your mouth.”

“I…”

I’m interrupted by Jace’s phone buzzing in his back pocket. He takes it out, checks it, and grabs my arm. “Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?”

“To see your king,” he hisses while leading me down a hall.

With a tap-tap, tap, tap-tap-tap on the manager’s office door, it swings open, and I gasp.

It’s Nash. Shirtless. Sweat glistening off his muscles. Breath huffing from his lungs. Murder in his eyes. Blood dripping from his hands.

“Give her to me,” he growls at Jace, who lets go of my arm, only to have Nash yank me by my other arm into the room.

“She’s all yours,” Jace says most tenderly as he closes the door behind him.

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