Page 36 of Princess of Thieves

“The hell are you talking about?” he says, squinting one eye shut and pushing himself up to sit.

“Don’t worry about it,” I say, sitting up too, sweeping my hair to one side. I’m not really sure what the hell I mean either. This is all so...so something.

There’s a long moment where neither of us speaks, and I wonder if we need to be awkward about the sex from last night, or if maybe this is just par for the course for him. I know there are people out there who have wild, outrageous one-night standsand walk away completely unattached. And while I don’t think I can lie and say that no emotions were involved for me, at least, I also don’t feel as complicated about it as I thought I would, which is honestly kind of refreshing.

“You look better,” LJ says at last, turning to skate his gaze over me.

“Well, I had a very restorative night,” I say drily.

His lips twitch like he wants to chuckle, but he doesn’t. As if on cue, my stomach lets out a grumble.

“I might be hungry,” I say, a little sheepish.

LJ sucks in a breath. “I don’t have much here, like you saw,” he admits, “but I can go down to the house and get—”

“Actually,” I cut him off, “I’ll just go with you. Assuming there’s breakfast on, as usual?”

I feel a little pang at saying the wordsas usual, like I’m admitting that for a while, anyway, this place was part of my routine and part of my life.

“No,” LJ says. “I’ll go. You don’t have to.”

“I know I don’t have to,” I say, “But...I want to, I think. I think I’m ready after last night.”

LJ doesn’t move for a second, then he arches a brow wordlessly.

I cackle nervously and punch him in his broad shoulder. “Oh, come on. I don’t mean that you, like, cured me or anything, although it did boost my mood a little.”

“I can tell, Princess.”

He shifts to the side of the bed and stands, and I have to say, the sight of him naked in the soft morning light is even better than what I caught in fits and starts last night by moonlight. I swallow hard, debating which of my needs will win out here, but ultimately, I haven’t eaten anything in almost 24 hours. As much as I enjoyed getting laid by this guy, I’m never going to overpower my appetite for real food right now.

I stand up too, and LJ gives me an up-and-down. “You’re gonna need to wear something,” he says.

I roll my eyes. “Well, obviously I’m not gonna show up naked. I don’t wanna send the wrong message.”

I’m surprised that I can joke about the three of them, given everything, but maybe that’s just my way of dealing with trauma.

“Well, right,” LJ says and gives a little cough, glancing down my body again.

I follow his gaze. “Oh.” Little red and purple ovals dot the crest of my hips—finger marks, small bruises from where he grabbed me. I run a hand over them lightly. “I didn’t even notice,” I say. “They don’t really hurt.”

“That’s good,” LJ says. He scratches the back of his neck. “To be honest, I’ve done worse. Looks like you got off easy.”

“I’ll say,” I reply, grinning.

It takes him a minute to get it, but then his eyes widen. “Jesus Christ, Princess. The mouth on you.”

He strides around the bed and lightly grabs my chin in his hand. “You’re really going to make me want to punish you, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” I say, “but food first.”

THE KITCHEN IS NOTHINGlike I remember. That is, it looks exactly the same—still spacious, light-filled, and smelling like food—but something’s different all the same. The vibes are off. The mood is subdued, at the very least. And when I walk in, the tone shifts again.

LJ is holding my hand, and I’m wearing a baggy tank top of his and a pair of gym shorts that I can’t imagine him ever wearing, but I guess every guy’s got a pair of basketball shorts somewhere.

Will sees me first. He’s sitting at the breakfast table, shoulders hunched, his usually styled hair ruffled, and his linen shirt uncharacteristically wrinkled.

“Maren,” he croaks and gets to his feet. He really does look like hell. “Maren, I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “This was all so fucked up, and you’re here, and you’re...”

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