Page 102 of The Obedient Lie
There was a silence after that. Not tense.
Then I groaned and swatted Bastion’s hand again. “You’re doing it again. Stop making fists.”
He didn’t speak. But the muscles in his forearm rippled under my palm.
“I’musedto people wanting me still,” I continued, a little too cheerfully. “That’s why I started the trust list.” I lifted my chin, proud of myself. “It’s agreatsystem.”
“But I didn’t expect my fiancé to want me still. Like,why?Where’s the fun in that?”
I flopped back dramatically into Bastion’s side, groaning. “Think ofallthe times he didn’t even try to get me off. Honestly, it’s rude.”
I slowly closed my eyes, sinking deeper into Bastion’s chest.
“You’re so warm,” I murmured. “You could be an electric blanket.”
He let out a quiet breath but didn’t move.
I sighed contentedly. “You two would be on the trust list.”
“Angel,” Bastion said was stained, voice low against my hair.
“Mmm?”
“Did anyone give you a tin tonight?”
I didn’t open my eyes. Just pointed lazily toward my clutch on the table. “Yeah. It’s in there.”
He didn’t move.
“I don’t need the last three,” I added. “I’m already relaxed from the others.”
Then, without thinking, I slid into his lap, laying down on his thigh.
His hand settled on my waist automatically, fingers pressing in like a reflex he couldn’t stop.
“If being a criminal heir doesn’t work out,” I murmured against him, “you could be an electric blanket.”
He didn’t respond.
“Can I have my hand back, please?” I asked softly, voice starting to drift. My limbs were going heavy, body too warm, too soft. The kind of tired that felt like floating.
I put Bastions hand near my head, patting him. Then I nestled in closer, trying to get comfortable. “Where’s my other hand…”
No one answered.
I let out a long, dramatic sigh. “Luca.I want my other favorite hand. Why are you always so far away from me? It’smyhand.”
Still nothing.
I blinked slowly, eyes suddenly heavier than they’d been all night, and finally looked up.
Luca was right there.
Closer than I expected.
Kneeling beside the couch, hand extended, like he’d been waiting. But it wasn’t his hand that made my chest twist.
It was his face.
