Page 120 of Shadowman
“No,” he hisses again, far too defensive to be a truth.
But hey… What do I know? I just work here.
“Oh, so your dick was hard the other night because of my feminine qualities?” I tease. “How sweet.”
“God, let it go,” he gripes. “Sometimes I hook up with guys in here to pass the time, okay?? It doesn’t mean anything. I’ve never… dated a man.”
And there’s our lie.
“Who have you hooked up with here?” My interest in this conversation has been piqued. I’m practically salivating for answers.
It takes him a moment to speak up. “Ren. And Luthor.Ow…”
Oh, bollocks. I’m squeezing his hand too hard.“Sorry. Continue, please.”
“Whatever, it doesn’t matter,” he grumbles, playing it off like he’s unaffected, but I can tell this is a sore spot for him. And I’m dying to know why.
“Of course it does,” I say firmly, and our eyes meet.
He swallows visibly, then mutters, “I mean that them hooking up withmedidn’t… matter. Because they’re obsessed with each other.” He clears his throat. “They’ve been doing this toxic dance since the moment I set foot in this prison. They’re on a collision course, and anyone in the way gets crushed.”
“But it mattered to you…?” I ask, trying not to sound jealous as hell.
“That’s enough,” he grumbles. “Can we go back to the game, please?”
“Why? Because I’ve got you on the ropes?” I tease.
He scoffs. “Look who doesn’t know fighting. You could never get me on the ropes,loverboy.”
“Show me what you got, tough guy,” I sneer.
The moment the final nail is done, he snatches his hand back. “Hmm. I forgot, you like to be roughed up.”
A memory smacks me upside the head, and I nearly topple over.
A hand stuffing my face into the dirt…
Screams, and laughter, and pain.
And blood. Lots of blood.
“So what if I do?” Sniffing, I feel suddenly woozy.
I’m fighting to regain my witty nonchalance, but it’s just out of reach. I can feel trauma oozing from my pores. Tossing the nail polish into the basket, I ignore the way he’s gaping at me.
“Trevel, I—”
“I write poetry,” I cut him off before he can go there. “I’ve never been in love. And I talk to an imaginary version of my old teddy bear named Leo.”
Byron’s face turns flabbergasted. It’s kind of funny… How out of his element he looks. A chuckle bursts out of me, and he relaxes a bit.
Shaking his head, he scoffs while assessing his manicure. “You’re certifiable, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told,” I sigh out my amusement.
His movements stop, and he winces, pinching the back of his neck.
My brow furrows. “What’s wrong?”
