“It’s rude to stare,” A soft, boyish voice whispers along the back of my neck.
With a startle, I pivot to face the sweet voice.
Avian’s gentle gaze meets mine, and I wish he could see all the messy emotions on my face tonight. He can’t. But that doesn’t seem to stop him from always knowing my thoughts.
“I wasn’t,” I tell him.
He cocks a dark eyebrow so high, it meets the soft strands of hair hanging loosely against his forehead from his braid.
“I’ve heard some hushed gossip about the shifter bitch’s annoying sister.”
My mouth falls wide open. “My sister isn’t annoying!”
A small smile creases his features, and that distracting dimple of his makes its grand appearance.
“From what I gather, you’re the annoying one in that scenario, Cers.”
“What!”
He’s mistaken. I’ll admit I’m a lot of lovely negative traits, but annoying isn’t one of them.
“Stop frowning. It’s not good for you.” His hand lifts, and he traces the downturn curve of my mouth, and the mixture of his serene voice and skimming touch sends a shiver across my skin.
How does he do that to me: distract me with such minimal effort? Sweet touches and shy smiles never did a thing for me before I met him.
He’s wrecked me.
“Where have you been going at night?” he asks flatly, and all that sweet drunkenness he gives me turns quickly to sobriety.
This is what he’s good at: lowering people’s guards until they give in and tell him whatever his pure little heart could ever desire.
Fuck his heart.
My objective is more important.
“Nowhere.”
His hand drops as his head tilts to the side with so much disbelief, it’s clearly weighting his entire pretty little head.
“Cers,” he says on a warning tone he only reserves for Roman.
“Avian,” I say right back to him.
His arm drapes around me, but instead of holding me, he gives me the lightest unexpected shove, and then my back’s against the wall. And he’s caging me in with his palms on the wall on either side of my head. He closes in on me like the natural predator that he is.
Dammit.
I forget how lethal he is because he’s always so cute and fucking adorable.
Then boom: he’s on top of you.
Usually, I’m not complaining about that.
“You know, when my logic doesn’t get me the answers I need, I have to resort to primal violence.” His head tilts until those silver eyes are searching my face blindly. His breath kisses mine. His chest is heavy against my breasts until my swirling mind is very much aware of every single part of him. “Is that what you want?”
. . .Yes?
Wait. No. Right?
