Page 110 of The Night Shift
“Fiancé,” he corrects.
“Go fuck yourself.”
“Mm, I’ve missed that mouth.”
I press my lips together, trying my best to look annoyed, even though his words, dripping with suggestion, stir something warm and low in my belly. “It’s been five hours since we last saw each other.”
“Glad to know I’m not the only one keeping count.”
Oh, I really,reallywant to stab him again.
We keep staring at each other, both waiting for the other to look away like it's some kind of contest neither of us wants to lose. Ski Mask squirms some more, muttering something I can’t quite hear, but the word “bitch” is loud and clear. Theo's smile drops instantly, his gaze sharpening as he shifts his focus to the guy.
He takes a slow, deliberate step forward, then kneels to the ground, leveling himself with the mugger. “What did you just say?”
Ski Mask flinches. “Look man, I-I don’t want any trouble…”
“You should’ve thought about that before deciding to spend your evening picking on short, helpless women in dark alleys.”
“Excuse me?”
Theo glances up, his blue eyes piercing my own. “Yes, my love?”
“Short and helpless?”
He just stares at me. “You’re five feet tall.”
“Five-foot-seven.”
Theo stands slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. God, he’s so close.Not close enough.I want to look away — I really do, but it’s as if there’s a sudden magnetic pull between our bodies, solely focused on tugging my gaze lower. From his face to his torso. Then lower. And it’s not until I look back up that I catch the smirk tugging at his lips, along with the glint in his eyes. He rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek, biting back an obvious smile. The movement is so casual, but the way it makesmy stomach flip is anything but. It makes me wonder what that tongue would feel like between my —
“Ow!”
Fuck. I glance down and realize that my nails have been really digging into Ski Mask’s threadbare sleeve. Painfully so.
“The fuck is wrong with you two! Just let me go, please!” he begs, his voice cracking.
I’m pretty sure my face is now the color of a ripe tomato. Begrudgingly I let go of the guy’s arm and he topples forward on his knees. “Run before I change my mind.”
He doesn’t even look back. He hurriedly gets up, stumbling a little more, and quite literally makes a run for it. My eyes stay put on him, watching till he disappears into an alleyway across the street, making his way past a shuttered liquor store.
“No stabbing?” Theo says, drawing my attention back to him. “I’m shocked.”
I pick up my phone from the ground. “Right now, the only person I want to stab is you.”
It’s possible his face actually lights up at the sound of that. He lifts the flap of his jacket, exposing the crisp fabric of his shirt beneath. “The left side of my torso is relatively free.”
I flip him off and start walking out of the alley, back toward the bar. But of course, Theo steps in front of me, blocking my path.
I exhale. “Are you really that desperate to feel my knife inside you again?”
His gaze slides down my body, taking in my outfit, almost as if he’s trying to catalogue every inch of it for later. “My pride does take a nosedive every time I’m around you.”
“Move.”
He doesn’t. “We should talk.”
“About what?”
