Page 22 of Shameless Royalty

“Nothin’,” I snap, my voice a little too quick. “Why would I be hiding anythin’?”

Connor’s smirk deepens, and I immediately know I’ve walked into a trap. “You’re blushin’,” he says, his tone laced with amusement. “What’s got you all flustered, eh? The book? Or me?”

The heat in his gaze makes my stomach twist in ways I don’t want to think about. I clear my throat, setting the book down and moving to the next box. “Y’know, you didn’t have to go this far. One box would’ve been enough.”

“Aye, but where’s the fun in that?” he says as he gestures with his hand. “Besides, I’ve got to keep you busy. Can’t have you plottin’ your escape.”

“I wouldn’t need to plot if you just let me out,” I mutter, pulling out another book.

“Nice try,” he says, his tone amused. “You’re cute when you’re desperate, though.”

I freeze, my face heating instantly. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he says, his smirk practically wicked now. “Blushin’ suits ya.”

I shake my head, refusing to look at him. “Do you ever shut up?”

“Not when I’m havin’ this much fun with my captives,” he says, his voice dripping with fake sweetness.

I groan. “You’re exhaustin’, Cunningham.”

Connor chuckles, crawling toward me. He’s so close now that I can feel the warmth radiating off him, and it’s completely unfair. He leans down, his voice low and teasing. “Admit it, Babyface. You like it.”

“Piss off,” I mutter, my cheeks burning and my fucking glasses start fogging up.Shite.

“Not a denial,” he sings, moving back with a satisfied smirk.

I huff and can practically feel how the tips of my ears are on fire. “Why do you always have to be like this?”

“Like what?” he asks, leaning back on his heels. “Charmin’? Funny? Devastatingly handsome?”

“Annoyin’,” I say flatly. “That’s the word you’re lookin’ for.”

He laughs, the sound warm and genuine. It throws me off, how much lighter he seems today compared to a couple of days ago. It’s like he’s a completely different person when he’s not dragging the weight of the world around with him.

“You’re lucky I need these books,” I mutter, shoving another hardcover into the growing stack beside me. “Otherwise, I’d throw you out.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re terrifyin’,” he says, that grin still pulling at his lips. “Keep talkin’ like that, Babyface.”

I bristle at the nickname, my glare sharp enough to cut glass. “Ugh, that fuckin’ nickname. Can you please be broody again so I don’t have to hear it?” I snap.

“Not a chance,” he says, his tone smug.

I let out an exasperated sigh, turning back to the books. “Please stop.”

“Nah, you’re fun to mess with,” he shoots back.

I roll my eyes, but the corners of my mouth twitch despite myself. He’s infuriating, yes, but there’s something disarming about him when he’s like this—lighthearted, almost playful.

It’s dangerous.Too dangerous.

“Ta for the books,” I mumble, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Don’t mention it,” he says as he gets to his feet and stretches, then he winces. “Seriously, don’t. I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I say, grabbing another book and flipping it open.

Connor lingers by the door for a moment, and when I glance up, he’s watching me with an expression I can’t quite read. “Enjoy your readin’, Malachi.”

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