“What?” I ask. “You don’t have an inner monologue that narrates your life in real time?”
“I can’t say that I do. We’ll add that to the list of your adorable traits.” He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. Several beats of silence fill the living room, apart from the background noise of the TV that neither of us is watching.
“Tell me what’s on your mind,” Riven orders. Alwayssobossy. I sigh, exhaling a long breath.
“We should—” I start.
“Talk,” Riven finishes.
I sit up as he does, both of us retreating to separate ends of the sofa. Although the sofa isn’t large, it feels like miles separate us. I curl my knees into my chest, wrapping my arms around them. I’m not exactly ready for this conversation, but it’s inevitable. We need to do this to be able to move forward. Riven senses the energy shift and reaches a hand out, brushing his thumb over the top of my knee before leaning back into his end of the sofa.
“So you’re Vantros,” I state.
He nods. “Mhm.”
“And you’re the person who murdered Gideon,” I say, more to myself than to him. It’s as though voicing it out loud allows it to be captured into the universe to become fact versus fiction.
“Mhm.” He nods again, an inquisitive expression on his face.
“And you’re a vigilante killer like … Batman?” I ask, bracing myself for his response. I saw the people he murdered; they were all criminals.
He stiffens, flexing his jaw. “You … saw that. Sloane, I—”
“It’s okay. You don’t need to explain it. I understand why you did it,” I say.
He goes to speak, but then stops, running a hand through his hair. “Look, Sloane, that life isn’t mine anymore. I don’tneedit anymore. Not now, not since … you.” His eyes flick to mine, and in them I see the truth of his words.
“I know, Riven. I know.” I reach for his arm, squeezing once before leaning back against the sofa again.
“Why didn’t you tell me who you were?” I ask, changing the subject.
He’s silent for several minutes, as if searching for the right words. “I was afraid that if you saw me, I mean,reallysaw me, that you would run.” He pauses. “When you called asking theotherme for an interview, I almost said no. I didn’t want to blur the lines and feel the need to lie to you. Like I said before, when I locked eyes with you at that show, I knew that you weren’t another face in the crowd. I fought it, though. I’ve never needed anyone, Sloane, and my soul was fuckingscreamingat me because it neededyou. That’s why I pulled you into that room. I wanted to scare you, but really, it was me who should have been afraid. You were a reckoning, seeking to tear down every layer of defense I’d spentyearsbuilding up. And then you walked into that damn coffee shop and derailedallof my plans. You demanded the room, all eyes on you.” I scrunch my nose in objection, thinking that he’s delusional if he thought I wasthatdesirable.
He tuts. “What did I tell you about not seeing your worth, darling? That’ll cost you later.” He winks and then continues speaking like it never happened. Heat rises to my cheeks. “I saw the way you blushed at me across the table, fidgeting with your earring like you’re doing now.” He chuckles.
I drop my hand from my earring, unaware that I was doing it. It suddenly makes me alltooaware. I stare at my hands,embarrassment threatening to consume me. His laughter stops, pulling my eyes from my lap to his face. My gaze lands on his full lips, lingering for far too long before meeting his eyes. There’s something wicked about the way he’s staring at me. It dares to push me off the ledge, unaware that I’ve already agreed to fall.
“Darling,” he drawls. “You keep looking at me like that, and this conversation is going to have to wait.”
My breathing accelerates. I want himsobadly. I want to abandon this conversation and let him devour me with every unhinged, feral part of himself that he attempts to conceal. Instead, I begrudgingly shake my head to object. The rational part of my brain knows that if we don’t do this now, we may never get the chance. We remain seated on opposite ends of the sofa, both knowing that if we’re any closer, we might light the damn thing on fire.
“Okay,” he starts, “I saw you that day, Sloane. You were determined, and strong, and sofuckingbeautiful. I knew I had to have you, that you’d be mine. I wasn’t letting anything stand in my way, not even me. That thing that happened in the forest was, well … unplanned.” I choke back laughter, tossing my hand over my mouth to suffocate it.
“Sloane,” he warns, attempting to be all bossy. But his lips twitch like he also wants to laugh.
“What?” I scoff. “I felt like I was a huge slut after that, only to fall into the arms of theotheryou.” I face-palm. “God, why is this sofunny?” I laugh, feeling giddy.
He genuinely smiles. It stops the laughter and the beat of my heart. What abeautifulsight.
“Anyways,” he starts, “once you found those photos in my dresser, I couldn’t keep seeing you as Van. Things were getting too messy.” My eyes widen in shock at his nonchalant revelation.
“Yes, I know you took them. I stole them back, by the way.” He winks again, smirking this time. That damn adorable dimpleis threatening to put me on my knees in submission. My wide eyes now have a matching O-shaped mouth to go with them. And despite how badly I want him inside of me, I find myself a little pissed off right now.
“Mmmm. I can think of many uses for that mouth if you don’t start using your words,darling,” he warns. Heat shoots straight to my core as my body betrays me.
“How did you get into my—” I stop short, realization hitting me right in the face. “Oh my God. You and Callum,” I say, adding Callum to my list of people who need to learn a thing or two about boundaries. “You installed the damn system. Of course you could disable it anytime you wanted to.” I’m angry, I am. Yet, when he reaches for my thigh, I want to guide his hand to other places.
“Yes, I can. Next question,” he says, running his thumb over my foot that’s somehow found its way into his lap.Damnit.
