Page 18 of Heroes & Hitmen
“Thought I told you I was spoken for,” I snap, whirling to face him.
“And I thought I told you I didn’t care,” he shoots back without missing a beat.
I huff out a breath, glancing away like I’m annoyed. Which I am.Mostly.
“Do you have a death wish?”
“Maybe.” He wets his lips with his tongue, gaze raking down my body with unfiltered appreciation. “But I can think of worse ways to go.”
My breath catches. Not because of the line– though it’s delivered with enough heat to melt chocolate– but because some ridiculous part of me actually enjoys this. The snappy back-and-forth, the way he matches me word for word. Nobody’s ever done that before, and I hate how easily Ares Raines has already gotten under my skin.
I shake my head as I turn away and keep walking. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I’ve been called worse,” he chuckles as he falls into step with me again, effortlessly keeping pace. “C’mon, sweetheart. You know you want a cupcake…”
Ido, which is why I already know I’m two seconds from giving in. My sweet tooth is my ultimate weakness, and Ares has already figured out how to exploit it.
I sigh, long and loud, before glaring at him out of the corner of my eye. “Fine,” I mutter. “But only if you promise to leave me alone after.”
“No promises,” he says with a wink.
I should walk away, should ignore the thrum of anticipation beneath my skin and the way his voice settles into the pit of my stomach like gravity. But instead, I let him steer me toward the bakery, Ares matching my quick strides with a leisurely gait that’s somehow as insistent as everything else about him. Because maybe, just for now, I’ll allow myself one more sweet, stupid mistake. Even if I already know it’s going to cost me.
The cupcake shop smells like heaven when we walk in. The space is cozy and bright, the walls painted a soft pastel pink that speaks to my inner girly-girl. Warm vanilla, powdered sugar, and something vaguely cinnamon-spiced ignites my senses, and I swear I feel my pupils dilate, my mouth watering automatically as my eyes dart to the display case where an array of perfectly frosted cupcakes are lined up like tiny works of art.
I step up to the counter, already scanning the daily specials written in curvy script on a chalkboard: salted caramel, raspberry almond, chocolate hazelnut, lemon lavender. My stomach makes a soft little growl as I weigh my options carefully. Ares comes up behind me and leans in close, just enough that I can feel the heat of him at my back and register his frustratingly alluring scent.
Great. Just what I need to ruin this sacred cupcake moment.
A door opens from the back and out walks the shop girl, Callie’s eyes lighting up with recognition when she sees me.
“Miley!” she greets, breaking into a friendly smile. “Hey, girl. We’ve missed you lately!”
My cheeks flush with embarrassment as Ares moves to stand beside me, bumping my elbow with his. “Come here often?”
Before I can throw a sarcastic reply his way, Callie laughs and chimes in.
“Oh, yeah. Miley’s one of our best customers,” she remarks, giving me a pointed once-over. “Don’t know where she puts it.”
I force a tight smile, but internally, I’m cringing. This is exactly why we’re warned about frequenting human-owned businesses too often. People start to pick up on things– like how shifter metabolism burns through trash like a furnace. I could eat three cupcakes a day and still have abs. Not that Ido, but Icould.
Ares, of course, is absolutely loving this. The man seems to thrive off getting a rise out of me.
“So, oh-great-Patron-of-Pastries,” he croons, grinning like an idiot. “Got a recommendation?”
I point at the display, hoping the red in my cheeks has gone down enough to pass as a side effect of the warmth in here. “Raspberry almond. It’s filled with jam and has this almond creme frosting that’ll ruin every other dessert you’ve ever had.”
He arches a brow. “And what are you getting?”
“Chocolate hazelnut,” I reply immediately. “And I don’t share.”
“Neither do I,” he murmurs, his double-entendre obvious as his eyes drop down my figure, tongue tracing the edge of his lip.
My body betrays me, a needy throb flaring low in my abdomen and heat licking through my veins. Because even though Ares Raines is the worst, I’m drawn to him on some biological level. My head is saying no, but the insistent pulse between my thighs is sayinghell yes.
I do my best to ignore his presence as we place our order– twocupcakes, two waters– and take them to a tiny round table in the corner. I avoid making eye contact as I sit down, unwrapping my cupcake and pulling a fork from the little dispenser on the table.
Ares gapes at me in disbelief as I go about my usual routine.
