Page 44 of White Charms and Dark Secrets

“Hey!” I grumble, trying to grab it again, only to get deflected by his hand once more.

“They’re hot, give it a second,” he scolds me.

With as much grace and guile as I can muster, I poke my tongue out at him, then dart my hand out to steal the cheese toastie. It’s hot in my hand when I grab it, but I don’t want to let him know that he was right in saying to give it a second. I take a bite, feeling victorious even as it burns my tongue.

Kier goes to seize the toastie from my hands, so I let go, holding it hostage in my mouth as I try to bat his hands away with my own. After a few light smacks on his hands go ignored as he continues to try and recapture the food, I grab his wrists, holding them away from my face. He smirks, and I try not to laugh in fear of losing the cheese toastie goodness. With no other way to take the toastie from me, Kier dips his head down and pries the toasted sandwich from my mouth with his teeth.

“You stole my cheese toastie!” I exclaim, after swallowing the remainder of the sandwich still in my mouth. He shrugs his shoulders and starts chewing.Bastard.

I try to reach to snag it back, but he turns my hold on his arms against me by grabbing onto my wrists.Two can play at that game.I lean up, stretching as far as I can to try and bite at the toastie hanging from his lips.

I just about bite the edge of it, when he pulls back. I fall into him, and he's startled enough that he drops the sandwich, causing it to fall to the floor. Thankfully, he holds onto me and keeps us both upright at least.

“You had to go and ruin a perfectly good sandwich, Harlow,” Kier teases.

“That was your fault!” I look up at him, narrowing my eyes.

“Prove it,” he retorts, grinning. I can't help but smile back, the light-hearted banter infectious between us.Detective Asshole has a playful side, who'd have known?

“You're the Detective,” I point out. “Plus, the evidence is right there,” I gesture to the toastie on the floor, when I move my eyes back to him, I notice that his haven't left my face. “And I'm a witness to the incident.”

“Well, maybe this is the evidence ofyourcrime, andI'mthe witness,” he counters.

Did he move closer? Or did I?

“Bullshit,” I deny, holding his steady blue gaze.

“I'm sure I could wrestle a confession out of you,” he whispers, his cool fingertips grazing up my arm, and I shiver.

“Try me,” I goad.

His lips brush against mine, startling me for a moment, but the shock is soon washed away by a feeling of heat rushing through me. My arms encircle his neck as his arms wrap around my waist as we deepen the kiss. I feel something sharp drag over my bottom lip, and I jump back, drawing in a sharp breath.

I stare at him wide eyed, my eyes fixated on his teeth. On the fangs that have descended.

“Shit, I'm sorry,” he stammers, stepping towards me.

I jerk back, swallowing thickly.I want to say something, but what can I say?

“I didn't break the skin, it just brushed across,” Kier says gently, but I know all too well the look of pain in his eyes. It’s the same look Darren gets when I try and tell him things won't work between us. Rejection. Hurt. Sadness.

Speaking of Darren, what the hell am I doing here?

“It's okay,” I finally reply, letting out a deep breath. “I’ve just got to go now. I'm sorry.”

“You don't need to leave—” he begins.

“Yes. I do,” I cut him off, my decision made. I turn and walk out of the kitchen, heading back to the sofa to grab my boots. I put them on in silence, unable to formulate any more words, despite hearing Kier follow me into the room. I glance around, trying to figure out which way the door is, considering we portalled in.

“I can show you out,” Kier grumbles, turning away. He leads me through a different door and out into a hallway. He walks right down to the front door before pausing at it, his hand against the handle. He lets his hand fall back to his side, looking at me with a serious expression. “I'm sorry about the fangs. Sometimes it's hard to control, but I promise I wouldn't have bit you. I would never hurt you.”

“I know that,” I respond quietly, my eyes darting around everywhere trying to avoid looking into his. “It's not you. I promise it's not you. I just can't do this. I know it sounds stupid and cliché, but I'm a hot mess. I'll call you tomorrow about Elias so we can figure out what's next, but could we maybe just, pretend this didn't happen?” I plead, not afraid to pout to help my argument.

“Sure, of course we can, Harlow. I'll talk to you tomorrow.” He opens the door and steps aside, giving me enough room to pass.

“Thank you, Kier,” I murmur, as I step past him and out into the rain wearing only a borrowed black dress and my boots. The icy rainfall drenches me in seconds as I walk away, hearing his front door close behind me.

Twenty-One

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