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I sucked a breath of razor-sharp air into my lungs. It was funny how I needed to remind myself to do something as automatic as breathing. Grief had a way of infiltrating everything, even when you were prepared for it.
I could do anger. Anger was easy and clean and transformative, powerful even. But the messier emotions I wasn’t comfortable sharing with others.
“We never forgot what your dad did for Lucian,” he said. I tensed. Every time someone mentioned the man’s name, it felt like a bell rung in my skull, resonating in my bones as if it was supposed to mean something. But it didn’t. Not anymore.
“Speak of the devil,” Knox said. We all looked to the doorway at the back of the room that suddenly seemed dwarfed by the brooding man in an expensive-ass suit. Lucian Rollins. Luce or Lucy to his friends, of whom he had few. Lucifer to me and the rest of his legion of enemies.
I could deal with that innate, biological warning that danger was near. After all, there was nothing safe about the man. What I couldn’t handle was how the tingling turned immediately into a warm, happy, reflexive There you are, as if I’d been holding my breath for him to appear.
God, he was beautiful. Supernaturally molded by the gods beautiful. He would make gorgeous little demon babies.
“I guess I’m keeping the coat,” I called after him. I watched him go, and then when I was certain he was inside, I opened the bag to find my favorite breakfast burrito wrapped tight in foil. The diner didn’t deliver. And Lucian shouldn’t have known my favorite breakfast. “Infuriating,” I muttered under my breath before briefly bringing the filtered tip of his cigarette to my lips where I could almost taste him.
Yet every spring when those fragrant pink blooms exploded into being, my chest loosened. My breath relaxed. And my oldest enemy stirred. Hope. Some of us didn’t get the luxury of hope. Some of us weren’t worthy of it.
“And I didn’t factor into those decisions?” she pressed. “You never do.”
Simon: If I could have chosen a son in this lifetime, it would have been you. Take care of my girls.
Emry chuckled. “What I wouldn’t give to meet the infamous Sloane Walton.” “You’d need more than one session if you wanted to get to the bottom of what’s wrong with her,” I told him. “I find it fascinating how she’s lodged herself so securely under your skin when you’re an expert at surgically removing annoyances from your life.”
Hearing the brotherly banter in the living room, I reluctantly changed into sweats and a T-shirt, then shoved my feet into the sherpa-lined house slippers Karen had given me two Christmases ago. I clomped back downstairs where I found my friends and their dogs lounging comfortably on the sectional. “He’s human,” Nash observed when I walked in. “Only on the outside,” I assured him.
I switched on the desk lamp. It was a hideous yard sale find featuring a faded woven shade that was constantly shedding threads and a heavy brass base etched with fanged merpeople. My mother insisted it was a travesty of interior lighting. Dad insisted it cast adequate light and was therefore perfect. That was my father. Always finding the good in even the ugliest places.
There was something earthy, elemental about Sloane’s husky laugh. She didn’t laugh like that around me. Not anymore.
It was a habit worse than smoking in my opinion, not going to bed until Sloane’s lights went dark. It was a compulsion that did me no favors, considering the woman was a bookworm who read past midnight most nights. I glanced down at my copy of The Midnight Library near my elbow and wondered if that was something else I’d give up once I finally sold this place. I was pathetic, secretly sharing a bedtime as if timing my lights-out with hers somehow ensured that she was safe.
“I could help you,” he said, reaching behind me and taking the paper back. “You’re good at math?” I couldn’t quite keep the incredulity out of my tone. “You think just because I play football I can’t be smart too?” Actually, I’d been thinking that in this scenario, I should be the hot athlete’s tutor who he couldn’t help falling in love with during intimate study sessions. But this could work too.
Nolan kicked back in his chair. “Let’s see. If Lina’s the kettle, that would make you the pot.” “I don’t have time for your nonsensical bullshit this afternoon.” “Just to be clear you’re the pot calling the kettle black in that metaphor,” he said. “I don’t have a personal bias,” I lied. Nolan began a dramatic search of his desk drawers. “What are you looking for?” I asked. He paused, then grinned. “A fire extinguisher to put out your pants fire.” “I thought you’d gotten less annoying since you shaved your mustache. I was wrong.”
“I’m still waiting for your point,” I said. “I can’t tell if you’re a good guy or a bad guy.” “Does it matter?”
“I think it does to both of us. Are you just making power moves to remind people you’re a big, strong man who needs to be feared? Or are you moving pieces around on the world’s biggest chess board for the greater good?” “I attempted to hire you for your brain. Why don’t you use it and tell me what you think?”
“I think you are putting friendly people in positions of power and not just because they pay you to. Sheila Chandra is an elementary school principal. She doesn’t have pockets deep enough to pay your fees. You don’t just give Trip and his fat wallet the boot, you destroy the man’s career, citing the fact that he lied to you. But I think it’s more than that. I think you don’t like bad men in positions of power. Which goes against the reputation you’ve built f...
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Sloane. My heartbeat picked up. Despite my best efforts, my brain cataloged each and every time the woman’s name came up in conversation.
Energy was a precious commodity, and I’d already used all mine up putting my hair in a ponytail.
I turned slowly and drank in the godlike hotness of Lucifer himself. It was impossible not to. It was like standing in a room with a great work of art and trying not to memorize every masterful brushstroke.
The only thing I do want to know is what do you want from me?” For one brief, shining moment, the man looming over me like a pissed-off vampire about to take a bite looked as miserable as I felt. “I want you not to matter at all,” he said. His tone was calm, but there was heat, a silvery fire in those gray eyes.
“This is a horrible idea,” I said in a near whisper. “Worst I’ve ever had,” he agreed. Neither of us moved. Neither of us came to our senses. “I’m exhausted by us,” I admitted. “I hate us,” he countered.
This was…more complicated. I liked Sloane. I wanted to keep her safe. And every time we touched, no matter how innocently, part of me wished for more. But that wasn’t an option. I was broken and she was beautiful.
For a second, I wanted it so badly that I didn’t realize how tight I was clinging to Sloane until my fingers started to ache. Wincing, I relaxed my grip on her. She tilted her head to look up at me. “It’s okay. You can hang on to me. I won’t break.”
The third song was the ballad “I Won’t Leave You Lonely,” and despite my best efforts, the words got in my head and tattooed themselves on my soul. I’d never be able to hear this song and not think about Sloane and how safe she made me feel. I wanted to hear it again, but I wasn’t about to ask her to replay it. Maybe I’d buy the album myself…and hide it in my car. When the final chords of the song played in my ear, Sloane slid a slim arm over my stomach and clung to me. I’d fulfilled my promise of three songs. But there was nothing for me at home. And there was everything for me here. She
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Ugh. I really needed to make some changes in my life. I wanted to be the one making my friends uncomfortable with over-the-top PDA. I wanted to be making plans for the future with my hot life partner with a large penis.
Lucian approached and, to my humiliation, peered at the photo. His gaze returned to me, and I knew he got it. He knew that I’d been looking at him. That that look had been just for him. What was one more secret between the two of us?
She closed her eyes and took a breath. “You’ve buried and forgotten so many things, I just assumed you were over that as well.” She was wrong. I’d buried and forgotten nothing. Instead, I’d used it all as fuel.
“There are some things we never get over. Some things we hide from the light,” I said, patting my pocket only to remember I’d left my cigarette in the car.
Sloane was clicking her pen and gnawing on her lower lip, her eyes wide behind her glasses. With a sigh, I gripped the back of her chair and pulled it and her into my side. She stopped clicking her pen and frowned up at me. She’d always had that little line between her eyebrows that deepened when she was deep in thought…or pissed off at me. I wanted to run my finger over it.
Is that good enough, Suit Daddy?” “That’s…reasonably thorough,” I admitted when she released me.
“Suit Daddy?” Her words had finally sunk into my reeling brain.
Me: He’s not even adult material. Thinking about setting a fire in the ladies’ restroom and making a run for it. I’m not going to survive until Stef’s fake emergency. Lucian: Where are you? My heart skipped a beat. Me: Vino Italiano. Why? Lucian: Stay there.
Lucian shot me a smirk. “Don’t you smirk at me. Apparently his mother made his profile.” “Dude, I’m kinda in the middle of something with Rackety Ann here. We’re vibing.” “Rackety Ann?” Lucian repeated. “He’s talking about her chest,” the server offered helpfully. Lucian rolled his eyes and clenched his teeth. He reached out and grabbed Euge by the collar and hauled him out of his seat. “Don’t get blood on the tablecloth,” I warned. “We’re just going to take a little walk,” Lucian promised. He looked at me. “Stay.”
It was a dance we’d been locked into for years. Every time one of us showed a side that was a little too human, the other managed to strike. Walls were rebuilt, animosity reinforced. We kept relearning the same lesson over and over again, but it never stuck. We weren’t good for each other. I wasn’t good for her. And I could never trust a woman who had so thoroughly betrayed me. “Don’t waste your time thinking about me. I don’t waste any of mine on you,” I told her. With her gasp ringing in my ear, I disconnected the call, switched off the light, and lay in the dark hating myself.
His beautiful face turned to stone. “Not everyone gets to be happy, Sloane.” “See? That right there.” I shoved a finger in his face. “He ruined you. He ruined us.” For a second, Lucian looked shell-shocked. He looked as if I’d hit him. And then the mask slid into place again. He released me and took a step back. But now that I’d gotten started, I couldn’t stop. I closed the distance between us and said the words I’d been choking on since I was fifteen. “He took a sweet, smart, beautiful boy and made him feel broken. And I will never forgive him for that.” “He didn’t ruin me. I am who I am in
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Since I couldn’t stop it from happening, I could at least suffer through it with him. We were so close in some ways and yet practically strangers in others.
“Ever get the feeling like you’re in a zoo?” Nolan asked observantly. I smirked. “Only every day.” “You could try being less handsome. I mean, I’m a straight guy, but even I know a suit daddy when I see one. Maybe shave the beard, lose a few teeth,” he suggested.
I was already on the move, the gravitational force of Sloane pulling me across the bar like it was an inevitable event. Every step that brought me closer made me angrier, more frustrated. I didn’t want to want her, but I didn’t want anyone else wanting her either.
“What is your problem, Lucifer?” Sloane demanded. “The answer is always you.”
Maybe I couldn’t make her smile, but I was the one who made the color rise in those smooth cheeks. I was the one who started the emerald fire in her eyes.
He dragged his mouth away from mine and swore. “Fuck,” he muttered, glaring down at me. “Problem?” It came out as a breathless taunt. “You’re my problem,” he growled.
I groaned irritably against his mouth. “Of course you have a big dick.” “And of course you’re disappointed by that fact when I’m about to fuck you with it,” he shot back.
With one sharp tug of his fingers, the fabric ripped all the way to my belly button and my breasts spilled free. “Christ.”
“Damn it, Lucifer. You owe me a new one-night-stand dress.” “Try going downstairs now.” His words were a low rumble of thunder.
“You’re not leaving this room,” he vowed.
