Page 58 of Heat & Deceit
That’s the truth.
I force the tears back and swallow, subtly clearing my throat and lifting my gaze. Rome’s focus is riveted on me. His eyes bounce from mine to the ruined piece and back again. Reaching for his ear bud, he removes it, and I do the same.
The lumberjack’s potter wheel fills the room with white noise.
“You know,” Rome says, gesturing to the ruined pottery, “I kind of like it like that.”
And somehow, those easy words and that quick smile pull me from that dark place inside my head. A laugh tumbles past my lips, three heavy chuckles that betray my emotions.
Rome doesn’t look away. His hands move, gently cupping his piece. It’s a beautiful vase again, this one wider than the last, but the walls begin to collapse and contort as he shoves his palms together. The clay oozes between his fingers. He flexes his hands and rips them apart, obliterating the piece.
He blinks at me, then gazes down at his wheel and the mess he’s made. Then his head tips back and a deep belly laugh rumbles out of him. I suck in a sharp breath. That sound.
Dropping his head and sighing, he peels the clay from his skin. “Yours is better than mine.”
My mouth quirks, and I shake my head.
“I’d ask for your help, but I’m a little afraid of you.” Light blue irises dancing with mirth, he bites his bottom lip.
“You should be,” I say, prim and haughty. “The last alpha who messed with me got tossed on his ass.”
“Ah, I heard about that.”
“Oh.” I frown then shrug. “I didn’t ask Javier to do that.”
“You’re lucky Ly wasn’t there.”
Curiosity, dangerous, cruel curiosity, sparks in the back of my mind.
“Why?”
No, Nova! Don’t ask questions like that.
Rome tips his head. “Now you want to talk.” I bristle and he quickly adds, “I’m not asking, only observing. I was worried you’d hate me forever.”
“Hate? No. There are only...” I trail off before I finish the sentence. “I don’t hate you.”
“Hmm.” Rome searches my face. “Todd wouldn’t have left without at least three broken bones.”
“That’s an oddly specific number.”
“One for every insult—”
“He only insulted me twice,” I interject.
“And one for good measure.”
“Oh.” I look down. “And you?”
“You mean what would I do?”
Don’t answer him.
“Yeah.” My voice is so soft, I don’t think he’ll hear the response.
“Ly and Javi are more physical than I am. I prefer to make my moves in silence, leaving more than a bruise behind.”
“You’re not a serial killer, are you?” I ask with a soft chuckle.
