Page 20 of Reptile Dysfunction
My throat goes tight as the unspoken meaning hangs between us, heavy with promise and possibility. Leaning toward her enmasse, my snakes’ usual intimidating presence is completely forgotten in favor of shameless affection.
“Speaking of honesty,” she continues, voice lower, “I was thinking about getting coffee after your class. Unless you’re still trying to maintain that careful distance thing?”
“Pretty sure that ship sailed around kiss number two.” The whispered words come out gruff, though it’s hard to sound intimidating when Sterling is literally making heart shapes again. Sloane just smiles.
“Good.” She steps closer, close enough that my snakes can catch her scent. “Because I have more questions about your abilities. Like the truth compulsion one of my sources mentioned…”
“Dangerous territory, Whitaker.”
“So you’re not denying it? Anyway, I like dangerous.” Her eyes meet mine with challenge. “Or haven’t you figured that out yet?”
Before I can respond, Tommy provides another timely interruption by attempting an unauthorized dive into the deep end.
“Duty calls,” I say, already moving to intercept him.
“Always the protector.” Her voice follows me across the pool deck. “Even when you’re trying not to be.”
She’s right. And I hate how much I like that she sees it—sees me. Even more irritating is how my snakes keep trying to stayoriented toward her as I fish Tommy out of the deep end, lecture him about pool safety, and attempt to maintain some semblance of authority.
When our eyes meet across the pool, there’s a silent conversation happening—her pride in me, my gratitude for her seeing what others don’t. It’s terrifying how easily she reads me now, how a single glance from her soothes the enforcer instincts that once kept me perpetually on edge.
“Your snakes are doing the swoopy thing again,” Jenny informs me helpfully.
“They’ve been doing that a lot lately,” Tommy adds. “Is it because Ms. Whitaker is pretty?”
“Back to your laps,” I growl. “Both of you.”
When I glance back at Sloane, she’s trying not to laugh. “The children are very observant.”
“They’re menaces. All of them.”
“I don’t know.” She tucks her notebook away, preparing to leave. “I think they just recognize what the rest of us see—that the scary enforcer isn’t actually scary at all.”
“I can be scary.” But even as I say it, my snakes are leaning toward her like smitten teenagers.
“Keep telling yourself that, Gorgon.” She heads for the door, then pauses.
“So, Saturday morning. Farmers’ market. You can show me how intimidating you are while buying organic kale.”
“I don’t buy kale. Organic or otherwise.”
“Even better. I’ll watch the scary enforcer navigate artisanal soap vendors and craft beer booths.”
Her grin is pure mischief. “Consider it research for my article.”
“Research into what, exactly?”
“Whether the most feared Gorgon in Harmony Glen can handle aggressive hippies pushing free samples.” She checks her phone. “Nine AM. Don’t be late, and try not to terrify any elderly ladies selling jam.”
“This is a terrible idea.”
“The best ones usually are.”
“You’re not going to let this go, are you, Sloane?”
“Not a chance.” Her smile makes warmth bloom in my chest. She turns to leave, and the look she gives me over her shoulder is pure challenge… and something sexier.
As I try to maintain some semblance of authority, my snakes keep swaying in that telling pattern, and I can’t quite wipe the smile off my face.
