An unwanted spark of heat flares as I watch him suck on the same candy I just did.
“Why are you being weird?” I peer up at him suspiciously. “Did you come here and poison that before the meeting, knowing I would take it?”
“You caught me,” he answers dryly. “That was my grand plan. Poison you first, then I’ll eat the rest. We’ll go out together.”
Okay, well, he has me there. But still, he usually avoids me like the plague. After the penthouse incident, and now this, it seems like he’s going out of his way to throw me off balance.
His eyes track over my body in a slow, controlled scan, like he’s deciding what to use against me next.
“I see you wore your tiny stilts today.” He bumps his boot against my white shoe. “Wondering what it’s like to be a member of the five-foot club?”
I glance down at my platform sneakers and frown. “I’m already five feet, thank you very much.”
“Sure you are.”
I shouldn’t take the bait, but sometimes, I can’t help myself.
“It must be hard for you when the only thing you have going for you is your height. But at least it’s something, I guess.”
It’s a blatant lie, but it gives me a moment of satisfaction.
He might be my mortal enemy, and there’s no denying that Romeo Vitale is slightly deranged and perpetually moody. But he’s also talented, far too intelligent for his own good, and devastatingly hot.
“Look at you testing out your kitten claws.” A hint of a smile teases his lips. “If only you got so fired up when you talk to everyone else.”
“I’m not fired up.” My cheeks heat.
“You look pretty fired up to me.” His eyes glint with dark interest. “Or is it just hot in here?”
My brain short-circuits trying to think of a clever response, and it only annoys me more—because now he’s winning.
This whole conversation is bizarre, and I don’t know why he’s even talking to me. He usually hovers around the perimeter in social settings, brooding, glaring, or tossing me the occasional insult if I’m in his vicinity.
This feels different, and it ramps up my paranoia. I wonder if he sensed me pulling back, and now he’s just going out of his way to get under my skin.
It doesn’t help that he keeps sucking onmylollipop. I’m tempted to steal it back from him, but before I can, Abella interrupts.
“Hey, Gabs. You ready to have that talk now?”
“Yes.” I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Okay, c’mon. Let’s go to my office.”
Abella staresat me with wide, unblinking eyes—still processing my rundown of the weekend’s events.
“God, Gabi.” The words burst out of her. “That’s absolutely terrifying. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, thanks to Eros,” I assure her.
“Eros?”
“It’s the name of a mythological god.” I shrug.
“Strange,” she murmurs. “Isn’t that the god of love?”
“Yes, but I don’t think it’s that simple. I’ve thought through the various interpretations of what it could mean, and all I’ve done is give myself a headache.”
“Hmm.” Her brows pinch together.
