The Devil You Know (The Grumpy Devils, #3)

by Elizabeth O'Roark

She has the face of an angel—high cheekbones, wide mouth, almond-shaped eyes—but she’s too goddamn argumentative and short-tempered to do anything but fight for a living.

“You bring up my dick an awful lot.” His eyes fall to my mouth, and that traitorous devil inside me likes it. “I wonder if that means something.” For a moment I’m picturing him and it—together, obviously—and I’m so winded by the idea it takes a solid two seconds for my mean mouth to make a recovery. “I have always had a soft spot for the small and the weak,” I reply.

I want the world to be a different place for the women who come after me. And the only way to make that happen is to ignore the fact that it isn’t different yet. But I’m so goddamned tired of staying silent just to get the things I deserve.

I hang up, and Ben turns to me. “So who’s the lucky sixty-nine-year-old?” I roll my eyes. “Your dad.” He smirks. “My dad is dead.” “That,” I reply, “would explain why he’s been so pleasantly quiet in bed.”

Ben: I flew across the country and drove over an hour, only to see you. I’m heading to my room. #312. The door is unlocked.

benathon, u kill me

I laugh. “You just love to throw that in my face.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “I do. Mostly because you laugh, every fucking time.”

“You want to burn the whole world to ash, just to make sure every path she walks is cleared for her. I know the feeling.”

You only stayed because you had something to prove, and I only stayed because I was in love with this woman there who loathed me.”

aaaAaAa

“You love me?” I ask. His thumb swipes a tear off my cheek. “This can’t be a surprise to you. I’ve been in love with you for two years straight. You were the only reason I interviewed there in the first place.”

I have passed away