Hot for Slayer (Scared Sexy Collection, #1)

by Ali Hazelwood

This kind of shit, I mentally informed the universe, does not incentivize good deeds.

My motto is: If I have to suck someone dry every few weeks, why not make it a Goldman Sachs executive?

If it makes you feel better, I thought fondly at him, willing the universe to pass on the message, I would have preferred it to be you.

I consider myself lucky, because I’m not prone to ennui. It may sound foolish, but I never get bored of watching 44the trees change, of seeing girls walk around hand in hand while giggling over a text from a crush, of finding a good poem.

“The bugs, the job, the nemeses stuff. You don’t have to tell me the truth, but you can stop pretending.” “Pretending what?” His chest heaves. “I might not remember my name, or anything about who I am. But I could never be near you and not know exactly what you are to me.” A second later, he falls asleep, leaving me to stare at the chevron pattern of the couch for eight straight hours as I try not to enjoy the heat of his body against mine, desperate to decipher exactly what his last words meant.

“I can’t come in. Unless you formally, verbally invite me.” His eyes widen as though Lazlo Enyedi, Guild slayer extraordinaire, had forgotten about one of our most dangerous limitations. “Right. My bad.” He clears his throat. “Aethelthryth, nothing would make me happier than having you with me here, or in any other place that I will call home, for as long as I live. Please, come in.”