Riot

A shiver wracks me. “Bullshit.”

“You should come clean, pretty boy. She really likes you. Wouldn’t want her finding this out from anyone but from yourself.”

Fuck. He’s right, goddammit, so I ignore the pretty boy comment. “How did you know?”

“You mean apart from the badass tat on your back and the flames on your arm?” He turns the heat on low and leans back on the counter. “You don’t look like a rent boy, Riot. I’ve trawled the escort sites, I’ve seen plenty. You don’t look soft. You look like a fighter.”

I shrug, partly pleased to hear it, partly annoyed. “I’ve left all that behind.”

“Yeah, I bet you did. Why the agency, though?”

“None of your business,” I grind out. “I’m gonna check on Pax.”

“She won’t settle for anything less but the whole of you,” he calls after me. “You know that.”

Hell, of course I know it. I just didn’t think I ever stood a chance with her, and now her friend says I do, I have no fucking clue what to do.

***

“What are you and Corey making?” She’s sitting up in the bed, her back propped against three pillows. Her cheeks are rosy. She looks much better than she did last night when I came over.

“A get-better soup. With carrots. And curry? I think.”

She claps her hands. “Oh, the curried soup? I love that one.”

I kinda hate how there’s so much history between her and Corey. Like, they’ve shared so much and know each other’s preferences and can practically read each other’s minds.

Then again...I was on her mind.

And she doesn’t sleep with him, like she does with me, so…

Heh.

“You have a strange expression on your face,” she says. “Come sit with me.”

I perch on the bed. “What?”

“You look like the cat that ate the canary.”

“Yep. Roasted and with a honey glaze.” I bare my teeth at her, and she laughs.

Score.

“Sounds like Corey has already imparted some of his culinary secrets to you?”

I snort. “Takes longer than half an hour to teach me how to cook, babe.”

“That’s because Corey’s cooking is as complicated as his twisted brain.” She makes a face. “What has Corey told you? Should I be afraid?”

I put my hand over hers on the covers. “Of me? Never.”

“I’m not afraid of you.” There’s truth in her dark eyes.

“Good.” A protective growl rises in my throat.

Would she be afraid of me if she knew about my past? Dammit, Corey is right. I need to tell her.

But I can’t. Fuck, I can’t. Not now. I’ve never been more scared of losing someone in my life.