We’re in the library now with our tea, both of us trying to hold it together.
I just feel like I’m waiting for a crash of thunder. It’s like watching a storm rolling in every time he moves.
Kane stands with his back against the oversized leather chair, his head bowed and his shoulders stone as he scrolls his phone.
His vicious scowl says everything.
There are only a couple articles about us so far, but it’ll be everywhere soon. Molehills turn into mountains so easily in the media world.
“Hey,” I whisper, rubbing his arm as I hand him the tea. He sets his phone down, but he doesn’t pull me in closer for a hug.
“Hey, yourself.”
“It’s not so bad. We’ve both been through this song and dance before.” I’ve said the same thing three times since we got home, and each time I’ve been met with an indifferent grunt.
This time feels different.
Almost shameful.
Because we’re not a real couple navigating how to deal with the press so we can build our lives together.
We’re just two strangers with great chemistry and sheet-ripping nights.
Nothing intended to last—and definitely not under acid speculation from outsiders.
“I’m sorry as hell.” He slurps his tea so fast I’m surprised it doesn’t burn his tongue.
“Don’t be. It’s fine, honestly. I’m a Blackthorn.” I laugh as I lean beside him. “This kind of stuff happens when you have an interesting life. Nothing new. I probably would’ve gotten a mention or two anyway just by being here and poking my head into town. This other stuff, it’s just—” I shrug. “It’s drama. Clown stuff.”
“No.” He sets the mug down with aclinkand faces me, his green eyes blazing. “It’s not business as usual, duchess.”
I swallow hard.
“If you’re mad that they think we’re dating, I get it. I—” I stop. I don’t know. This is the awkward part where I fidget in place, sipping my tea so I don’t have to look at him. “It’s happened before when I’ve been hooked up with guys. It’ll pass.”
His nostrils flare, and I know I’ve said the wrong thing.
“Is that supposed to make it better?Moreunwanted attention when we don’t even know who tried to fuck with the house?”
It was.
But I can’t say that now.
“All I’m saying is, the hit pieces are old hat for me. I’m fine. We’re fine.”
“I’m not,” he snaps. “This is a load of horseshit.”
“They’re just rumors, Kane.”
“And they shouldn’t have found us to run their mouths.” He paces between the tall bookshelves against the wall, and I watch the hard, angry line of his mouth, the tension ripping through him.
The way he moves, all power and intention.
So gracefully intimidating for such a large man.
I want to comfort him, but I don’t think I could bear being shoved away.
“They shouldn’t have known shit,” he snarls. “I’ve kept my head down and no one knows we’re here.”
