Page 91 of Ruin My Life
“Brie?” I knock again.
I hear her signature sigh and the sound of her footsteps before the lockclicksand the door cracks open.
Brie peers out, only showing me half her face, half her frame. She’s changed into a loose white T-shirt and baggy grey sweats—so soft and oversized they look like something stolen from a past life. Like something she could’ve borrowed from me.
She already looks annoyed.
“What do you want?” she asks flatly.
“Just checking in,” I reply. “How’s the leg?”
“Fine.”
“Do you know any other adjectives to describe how you feel?”
“‘Fine’is enough.”
I sigh through my nose.
“Is this all you wanted?” she asks, crossing her arms.
“Family dinner’s in an hour,” I tell her, ignoring her tone. “You’re welcome to join. There’s something we’d like to discuss.”
She arches a brow. “It’s after midnight.”
“We eat late. The job kind of requires it.”
She hesitates, but only for a second. “I’m tired.”
I grind my molars behind closed lips. I need her engaged. Cooperative. Not hiding behind the excuse of sleep.
But I won’t push. Not yet.
“Rest,” I say instead. “We’ll talk when you’re ready.”
She starts to close the door.
But I stop it—my hand bracing the frame just above her head. She freezes beneath the pressure of it.
“But don’t take too long, little rose,” I murmur. “I don’t like waiting.”
She looks up at me then, eyes cold, steady, and unimpressed by my very presence in the room she’s now claimed as her territory. As ifIwasn’t the one who let her have it in the first place.
“The longer you stand in this doorway,” she says coolly, “the longer you’ll wait.”
I hold her stare for a moment longer than I should. Then, slowly, I pull my hand back.
The door slams in my face hard enough to rattle the frame.
I don’t flinch. I just turn and walk back toward the kitchen, every nerve in my body wound tight.
Monroe’s right.
I can’t let my guard down. I can’t let her get too close. If I do, I won’t think straight. I’ll stop protecting the mission, and start protectingher.
And when that happens—everyoneloses.
As soon as this is over, she has to go. And I have to let her.
