Sliding my hand over hers, I clutch her cold, slender, ring-clad fingers in mine, lowering them from my cheek. “Bad day, but I’m not getting into that with you, Little Moon. You need to—”
“Little Moon?” She smiles, flattens her other hand under her chin, and does some sort of quirky little curtsy. “Was that a slip of the tongue, or do I finally rank high enough to earn a nickname from the great Tytan Reynolds?”
Shit.I don’t know where that came from. She’s had a lot of nicknames in my head. That’s the one I always come back to. But I don’t speak them out loud. I never nickname people I can’t keep.
Wells is going to kill me. I’m late to meet him, drunk, and I’m fucking everything up with the littlest Noire.
And still holding her hand.
My thumb sweeps back and forth over her silky skin before I muster the strength to drop it.“You are the youngest heir to the La Lune Noire empire. I wouldn’t call it a slip of the tongue or a nickname. Just an obvious categorization.”
“Right.” She rolls those sparkling green gems. “Obvious, like how you were getting a drink at Magie Noire.”
How the fuck did we get back here? And why the hell do I feel so guilty?
I lean into her, enraged. She’s making this too hard. This is why I didn’t want to come here. Why I escaped my family and ventured into that club instead of heading up to the penthouse. Because I didn’t want to see her. Couldn’t bear to see her.
Keeping my voice stern and my features harder than I traditionally would with her, I lay it out. “Where I was is not important. Where you’re going is. Your brothers are wise to not want you around me. Remember that, Rena.” Unable to stop myself, I skimmy knuckles over her velvety cheek, relishing the way her breath hitches, her cleavage rises, and her eyes dance all over my face while I extend the rest of my warning. “And if you don’t want me reporting back to them, you’ll get your ass upstairs.”
Regaining herself, she scoffs, her palms sailing over my chest—a brush that radiates through every fiber of my being, zinging straight to my cock. “You’re being a total dick. But that’s nothing new for me. Ryker Noire helped raise me. With the exception of maybe Gage, there is no one who does grumpy intimidation better. I’m not sure what the hell is going on with you, but it’ll take a whole lot more than that to scare me.”
With that, she ducks away from me and struts down the corridor. In the opposite direction of the North Tower penthouse.
So, I tromp after her, avoiding a throng of blathering ladies, adorned in Mardi Gras beads and diamonds in equal measure. “Where the hell are you going?”
She whips around, face beaming like a damn supermoon. “You tell me I should stay away, but you suck at keeping your distance from me.” Shrugging one shoulder, she flutters her lashes. “But whatever. If you need me to spill the tea about my day, that I can do. I had to drop something off in the high-rollers room for Axel—highly confidential. I hung out for a few minutes with the manager and the guest concierge—silver foxes in their fifties and sixties who treat me like agranddaughter. We gossiped mercilessly about the guests and the recently widowed head of housekeeping.”
Lowering her voice, she cups a hand around her lips. “She’s just itching to be made into amodernwoman. A whole tube of K-Y Jelly will be in order, for sure. If you know what I mean.” She winks and drops her hand to her hip. “And now, I’m meeting Jax in the South Tower. It’s all quite scandalous, don’t you think?”
Fucking adorable. And kind of crazy.
I’m such a moron. For engaging with her, chasing her down, forgetting that this hallway leads to the South Tower elevator too.
And touching her. I should not have touched her.
“Fine,” I say in my most stoic delivery. “As long as you’re safe.”
She laughs and flaps her hand. “I don’t need you to keep me safe, Ty. I’m a twenty-three-year-old princess, locked in a bell tower. No safer place for theLittle Moon.”She sings her accidental nickname with an eccentric shoulder shimmy.
So damn cute.
It takes every ounce of self-discipline I have, but I nod and turn the other way, only to hear her call out, “I think we’re both on the cusp of a Janis Joplin moment. I can freaking feel it.”
No idea what the fuck that means, but I don’t dare look back.
Little Moon.
Jesus Christ.
I pick up my speed, rounding the corner into a semi-crowded lobby. It’s classy and quaint here—only exclusive patrons are permitted in this reception area. It’s got a whole sin-and-secrets, bootleggers-lounge vibe. Dimly lit. Dark decor with lavish chandeliers and gold-plated touches. Hushed conversations and upscale debauchery.
Wealthy and wicked.
My family meshes perfectly with the whole scene.
It nearly lifts my spirits to imagine myself as merely another visitor until I feel a death grip seize my neck. That has me cussing under my breath, but Wells is unfazed.
“I swear to fuck, Ty. You donotgo AWOL on me. Understand? I’ve been searching all over the goddamn place for you.”
