Page 63 of Savage Hearts
That catches me completely off guard. I look at him with my eyebrows lifted. “Me? Why?”
He shifts his weight from foot to foot, clears his throat, then glances at the door. “For catching you last night in the kitchen in your kex. You seemed awful embarrassed.”
I get that “kex” must mean underwear and feel relieved.
Unless it means “soaking wet underwear,” in which case I’m fucking mortified.
My laugh is small and nervous “It’s, um… no biggie.”
He glances back at me. The tips of his ears turn red. “I didn’t see anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.” After a short pause, he corrects himself. “I mean, I didn’t see much.”
I slap a hand over my eyes. “Jesus. Could you make this any more painful?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted. Now please go, so I can die of shame by myself.”
“You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of, lass.”
His voice has gained a husky, unfamiliar edge. I think he’s trying to compliment me.
And now my ears are red, too.
I slide my hand from my eyes down to my mouth. I stare at him in silence. Then I drop my hand to my side and sigh. “Well. Thank you. I think. Can we please never talk about this again?”
He runs a hand over his hair. “Aye.” He turns to leave, but turns back at the door. “Your sister wants to speak with you. She asked me to have you call her.”
“Tell my sister that I’d rather eat a shit sandwich than talk to her.”
He presses his lips together to keep from laughing and nods. “Will do.”
“And stop thinking that we’re alike. We’re nothing alike.”
He holds my gaze, looking like he’s arguing with himself over something. Finally, he says, “No, you’re not. Except for that lion’s blood that runs in the family.”
I say quietly, “Thank you for that. But I’m not a lion. Compared to her, I’m… a cub.”
“A baby lion is still a lion.”
After a moment of awkward silence, he turns and walks out.
I become more determined than ever that if it’s within my power, I won’t let Malek hurt him.
Spider will make someone a very good partner one day. He doesn’t deserve to get shot on babysitting duty for his boss’s fiancée’s dorky younger sister.
I work on my laptop for a few hours until I get sleepy. I dig the final box of Twizzlers from my bag and eat the whole thing. Then I take a shower, standing under the hot spray for a long time, thinking about everything that’s happened since I left San Francisco. Thinking about what I’ll say to Malek when I see him next time.
Because I know there will be a next time. I know it in my bones.
Whatever’s happening between us is unresolved. I know hewants to hate me, and maybe part of him does. But there’s another part of him that doesn’t.
Judging by last night, that part of him is in his pants.
And I don’t know what to do about any of it. This entire situation is so far out of my league, I can hardly think straight.
I’m just an introvert who loves books, candy, and arguing with strangers on the internet. My idea of excitement is starting a new Netflix series. I live in one of the most exciting cities in the world, yes, but everyone I hang out with is about as thrilling as stale bread.
They’re computer geeks. Video game addicts. Coffee shop philosophers with man buns, degrees in the arts, and maybe an extra set of genitals.
