Page 47 of Fallen Heir
They only deepened my curiosity. Dampened my restraint. Lit a fire low in my belly I’d spent weeks pretending I didn’t feel.
He handed me a container of rice and sat beside me, our thighs barely brushing. Close enough to feel his heat. Close enough to forget everything else.
He didn’t bring up the call again. Didn’t ask about the panic or the tears or the broken way I opened the door earlier.
He just… sat. Solid. Steady. Present.
Trying to distract me. To keep things light.
It was working.
“So,” he said, motioning toward the built-in shelves beside the TV, “you read?”
I swallowed a bite of food and nodded. “Yeah. A lot, actually.”
His lip quirked. “What’s your favorite book?”
I blinked. Not what I expected him to ask. Not from a man who looked like he'd walked out of a war zone—or a billionaire’s private gym.
“I’m a sucker for fantasy,” I said finally, shrugging. “Ever heard ofThe Twilight Saga?”
His eyes lit up. “Eh, I’m an Edward fan, myself.”
I nearly choked. He looked like he spent hours getting ink strategically placed on his skin—not hours lounging around reading a novel cover to cover. He was carved from grit and shadows, the kind of man who looked like he read battlefield reports, not vampire love triangles. And yet here he was, casually declaring allegiance to Team Edward like it was gospel.
“There’s no way you’ve read those books.”
He raised both hands in mock surrender. “Hey, we listen. We don’t judge.” A low, playful laugh slipped out, and for a moment, everything else disappeared.
That laugh. God, that laugh.
I hadn’t heard him sound like that before. Relaxed. At ease. Like someone who wasn’t carrying the weight of my secrets on his shoulders. Like a man, not a weapon.
My chest tightened. The pressure behind my ribs grew heavy.
This was dangerous.
Not because he scared me. But because he didn’t.
Because he saw me. And I secretlywantedto be seen.
He reached over, stole a dumpling from my plate, and popped it into his mouth with a smug smile. I threw a napkin at him.
It landed on his chest—right on top of the dark lines peeking out from under his sleeve.
He caught it before it fell and held it up. “Assault. That’s a felony.”
I rolled my eyes, but the laugh that followed felt too real. Too easy.
We stayed like that for a while. Eating. Laughing. Letting the silence stretch between jokes instead of tension.
And then… something shifted.
The food was gone. The laughter faded.
He was still beside me. Closer now.
I hadn’t noticed when the space between us disappeared. When his hand rested on the back of the couch behind my shoulders. When my legs tucked underneath me, bringing me closer to him.
