Hard to Get (Killer of Kings 4)

“The way that guy talked to you. He’s your boss. I could tell.” She took a sip of her coffee.

“You’re way too observant.”

She looked up at him. “I’ve had to be.”

“Yeah, why is that?”

Riley laughed. “You really want to know about my past, don’t you?”

“You said someone like you doesn’t get to have your dreams. Tell me about you, Riley.”

She sighed. “That’s just me having a pity party. Ignore me.”

“Is that why you’re alone?”

She frowned, wondering if she’d missed something. “I don’t—”

“You’ve got no man in your life. There’s no best friend. You’re a loner, and you hate being around fake people. I saw the look on your face at the party. You didn’t want to be there. You close up whenever anyone gets too close.”

He’d nailed her spot on, and her barriers instantly went up. How could this stranger unravel her after a few words? “You know, I don’t have to listen to any of this. Thank you so much for dealing with this stuff, but maybe you should go.”

She took a slice of toast and her coffee, leaving him alone. Entering the kitchen, she tore into her toast, and began to preheat the oven.

“You also run away from everyone and everything.”

“Screw you.” She turned to face him. “You’re not this squeaky-clean guy, just so you know. You’re a mystery. You’re as much of an outcast as I am.”

“So, I’m not trying to be something I’m not.”

“And I am?” She glared at him, feeling like a cornered dog.

“What do you call this?”

“This is my dream, asshole. Is this what you want? You want real? Fine. All my life I was the piece of shit that everyone wanted to be rid of. The kid no one wanted, not even my own parents. I’ve always been either too fat or too ugly. The foster system was no cake walk. It was worse than the streets. That’s what I know. My bakery, it’s mine. I can do one thing that’s good, and I bake. I’m good at that. Actually, you know what, I’m fucking great. I’ve seen the looks on people’s faces when they try something I’ve made, and it means everything to me.”

“The suburban house?”

“It’s a nice neighborhood. Why shouldn’t I live here? The people might be fake, but this is the life I’ve always dreamed of.” She was panting now, her anger at a fever pitch.

“Is that how you can read lips?” he asked. “The streets.”

This made her frown. “What does it matter if I can read lips? Growing up, it saved me. I was able to know when shit was going to go bad.”

Silence fell between them, and she kept on staring at him, waiting for him to say something else.

He held his hands up. “I’m sorry.”

She took a cleansing breath. “Yeah. Me, too. I think the early morning murder and mayhem has messed with my head.”

Shadow smirked. Why did he have to look so damn sexy when she tried to hate him? “I’m going to stick around to make sure they stay away from this place.”

“If I die because you started something, I’m so going to come back as a ghost and haunt your ass.”

“I look forward to the company.”

He walked toward the front, looking out the good panes of glass.

“Maybe in death I’ll finally figure out your secrets,” she said.