Page 92 of Captive Audience
I risked a glance upward from the shapely pec I’d probably drooled on during the night. With one arm curled around my shoulder, Rook scrolled through his phone, acting as if the pair of us woke like this every day.
He didn’t look away from the screen when he added, “I can sense your impending panic attack. Don’t overthink it. You and I have done far more sinful things in this bed.”
I untangled myself to put space between us. “I wish you’d stop reminding me.”
He smirked, still scrolling. “Not anytime soon.”
Fantastic. “What time did you get in?”
“Late.” He paused. “Or early if you look at it a different way.”
“And?” I propped up on one elbow to watch his profile. “What happened at the dock?”
He shrugged. “Nothing to report. False alarm.”
I frowned as my hope of wrapping up the investigation quickly sank. “So no new leads.”
“We’ll keep looking. Something will come up.”
I wasn’t so sure. “I wish you’d reconsider letting me talk about the case onCaptive Audience.”
That got his attention.
He stared at me like I’d suggested pouring a bucket of blood into a shark tank and going for a swim. “We’ve been over this.”
“No, we haven’t. You put your foot down and barely considered my idea at all.”
“That’s because it’s a bad idea.”
Why did he have to be so pigheaded?
I sat up straighter, irritation boiling in my chest. “I’m hamstrung. You won’t let me talk to anyone. You won’t let me use the podcast. There’s only so much I can do sitting at a computer all day.”
“This was always meant to be a discreet investigation. I told you that from the start.”
“Dammit, Rook. Sometimes it feels like you don’t want me to succeed at all.”
His jaw flexed. Then he threw off the covers and swung his legs out of bed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
I scrambled out behind him, cutting him off on the way to the bathroom. “Not so fast, gangster.” I planted myself in front of the door. “Movie night. Foot rubs. Convenient demolition of my pillow wall. You seem awfully content with our little living arrangement lately.”
“So what if I am?” He folded his arms. “You don’t seem to hate it, either.” He was still as he waited for my response.
“That’s not the point.”
“What is, then, Asha? Would you prefer if I treated you poorly?If I spent my nights in bed with other women while you slept across the hall?”
No. I wanted neither of those things. Especially not the latter. When I imagined Rook kissing someone else, fucking them, waking up the way we just had, I felt ill.
Oh God. What the hell did that mean?
I couldn’t have any genuine feelings for Rook, could I? Something that went beyond physical attraction? That would be so messed up. So wrong.
I swallowed with difficulty. “Just promise me one thing. Once we find the Soul Collector, you’ll take this ring off my finger and let me go.”
“I already told you I would.”
“Say it again.” My voice sharpened. “Say it like you mean it.”
