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I wasn’t angry at her—though I was disappointed that the original gold was destroyed. But that was far from her fault.
But bringing it up without something to offer as closure would probably cause her to become even more anxious. She didn’t seem like the kind of person to accept reassurances at face value.
So I had to approach this in a different way.
“Titus?”
Her voice cut through my concentration, and I dropped the ring, spinning to face the intruder.
We were in my garage—mine because no one else cared about cars besides riding around in the most expensive models. But the maintenance and upgrades of said vehicles always fell to me, if they didn’t bypass me and take them into the shop, anyway. I sat at my desk, where I was currently working. I’d been in the process of rebuilding a computer. So my work surface, and the room as a whole, was shamefully disorganized.
Bianca stood in the doorway, nervously shuffling as she watched me. And now that I’d noticed her, it was alarming that my attention had lapsed so much that I’d missed her entrance.
“Bianca?” This was embarrassing. “When did you get in here?”
Miles was retreating to the main part of the house. He must have brought her. And Bryce was still practicing his forms in the adjacent workroom. His movements hadn’t paused, so he didn’t seem to have heard his sister.
“Just now…” She sounded so unsure, and she stepped into the room, biting her lip. “Can I talk to you?”
A deep sense of foreboding twisted in my guts at the hesitance in her voice, and my instincts stirred at the fear in her eyes.
There was no reason for her toeverhave that expression around me.
My gift to her was still in plain view on the table, and I dropped an unused cloth over the surface. I crossed my arms, facing her. “Is something wrong?” Why would Miles bring her to mehere? I thought she didn’t like messes.
“I’m not…” she began, but her attention drifted to the table. My heart began to race as she asked, “What are you working on?”
“Nothing.” It was a battle to keep my voice calm. There was only one way out of this now—one tactic. She was too scary when she had her focus on something.
“No.” She frowned. “It was something.”
I had to distract her. Before I knew it, I’d crossed the room, pulling her to me and turning us away from the table. But now what? It wasn’t like I could dip and kiss her like we lived in some sort of fairy tale.
I needed to divert her attention, not terrify her.
What should I do?
“Is that Damen’s Jaguar?” she asked.
I blinked, my nervous energy receding and interest piquing at the sudden gleam in her eyes. It almost felt as though she wasjudgingme.
“Why did you rip apart Damen’s car?”
Shewasjudging me!
“That’smycar.” Not that it mattered. I had ripped apart Damen’s car more than once. “Mine is darker.”
“Why do you have a Jaguar?” she asked, squinting her eyes at the vehicle. “I thought you had a Range Rover. And that Harley. Though, I couldn’t place the model.” She shivered, and guilt rushed over me. Was she recollecting our first meeting?
I’d never misjudged a situation so badly in my life.
I would give almost anything to go back to the past and redo that moment. But for now, this worked to distract her. She seemed to know a bit about this topic; she’d payed enough attention to remember the vehicle models. “Are you interested in cars?”
She blinked, turning her attention to me.
“Not building them or anything…” she muttered, gesturing around the room. “But I like looking.”
“You like looking at cars?” Like car shows? The fact that she was interested in this topic at all was a bit of a surprise. Although, it did seem like various fetishes ran in her family. “Why?”
