Her face went from seething, to something entirely new. It threw me off, the way her eyes focused on only me. Alex never paid attention to me like that—it felt like the roles had reversed, and it made my stomach go hot.
“Don’t be an ass. I forgot, okay? Stop being dramatic.”
“You forget about me a lot.” My brow twitched, and my smile faltered. I was pouting, saying too much and too little at the same time. “Sometimes I think it’s on purpose.”
I thought about Alex a lot; at the academy, after Joon and I became Heroes, and even after he died. I wasn’t even a blip on the radar. I was the jackass that made her want to pull her hair out. But right here, right now, Alex wasn’t pulling away. She was leaning in, her head turned to look back at me, a playful pull to her lips.
Too close, Leo. You’re crossing a line, Leo. Back off, Leo.
Alex gave me a sweet smile, one that made my heart pound and my breath freeze. “Trust me, I don’t forget about you. I see you in my nightmares every night.”
Brat.
The thought wasn’t mine; it was the wine. Definitely the wine.
I lowered my head, and I could swear the oxygen was gone from the air. Goosebumps trailed along her bare arms, but she didn’t look cold. It was giving me too much confidence; the way her eyes shone, how she was relaxed and tense at the same time. With her head tilted back, her neck was exposed, the very spot that another man had dared to bite.
A primal part of me wanted to nip at her skin; get rid of whatever Lycean had dared to leave behind, and claim the spot for myself.
Greedy bastard.
“Just nightmares? That’s disappointing,” I murmured.
What am I doing?
“What would you prefer instead?” She sounded breathless, and her tone was more inviting than snappy.
My eyes flickered to her lips, andGod,I was aching. What would Alex taste like? What would it feel like to kiss her? What didshelike? I lowered my head, just a fraction, as I tried to keep my restraint. But then Alex rose up on her toes, and the world slowed.
Is she doing what I think she’s doing? Does she want this? Does Alex want m?—
The tension snapped, but not in the way I expected. My new phone started buzzing on the counter, and we jumped away from each other like I’d burst into flames again. Alex tucked her hair behind beet red ears before fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. I wanted to fucking scream.
“What?” I snapped as I answered the call.
That was the shitty thing about being a dog of the VIA—we didn’t exactly work office hours.
“Where the fuck are you?!” Reed’s voice cut in and out; the sound of screaming was clear in the background. “Shit is hitting the fan, man!”
My face fell, and I glanced back at Alex, who watched me with pinched brows.
I held her gaze, my belly heating again, before I hissed through my teeth, “Where are you, and how bad?”
ABOOMshot through the speaker, right before the faint echo of what sounded like an explosion filtered through Alex’s open windows. We both straightened, staring out into the skyline of Nightmyre, waiting for smoke.
“Very, very bad!” Reed finally shouted. “Fifty-Third Street, get herenow!”
“Yeah, I got it. We’re on our way.” For the first time tonight, my watch started to beep, signaling a rise in my temperature.
“What is it?” Alex tiptoed around the counter, cautious.
I rolled my neck and shoulders, already preparing myself. “No clue, but it doesn't sound good. Reed’s on Fifty-Third.”
Alex raced to what I assumed was her bedroom, tying up her hair before she disappeared through the doorway. “That’s six blocks from here!”
I stripped in her living room; I’d gotten used to changing anywhere, fast. My gear was inside of a backpack that I’d dropped on her couch, and I was ready within sixty seconds. Heroes never went anywhere without their gear—it was the comic book rule.
The explosions were coming in fast succession now. They hadn’t gotten any closer, but the frequency made my neck tense, and my watch started to beep. My temperature was rising. I took deep breaths, shifting in place as I waited for Alex. The air around me started to warp with the heat, and my anxiety only grew.
