She steps back, straight into the counter.
I cage her in and hold it over her head.
Her breathing quickens, but her smirk doesn't budge. "You wouldn't dare."
"I've been daring since the second you walked in here wearing my shirt."
Her voice drops. "Don't even think about?—"
I swipe whipped cream off my chest and smear it on the tip of her nose.
She gasps. "Brax!"
"Valentina!"
Her eyes light up. She tugs my sweatpants toward her and, with her other hand, swipes the whipped cream down my torso and into my pants.
"Now you're in trouble," I warn.
She grabs the can, tilts her head, smiles, and sprays more in my pants. "Wouldn't want to be stingy."
I stare at her, unable to stop smiling.
She stares right back.
I grin. "Now's the point you get on your knees?—"
The door shakes from a brutal knock.
We both whip our heads toward it.
Another round of pounds fills the air. "Brax! Open up!" Finn orders.
I mutter, "Perfect."
Valentina's eyes widen.
The pounding intensifies. "Brax! Don't make me tear this door down!"
"Shit." I rush to the door and yank it open. "Where's the fire?"
Finn storms past me without answering, shoving the door so hard it ricochets off the wall. "Don't give me your sarcasm. You've been missing for days. Scratch that. You've not been yourself for months."
"Sorry," I offer, feeling guilty like always.
He jabs a finger into my chest. "Don't give me sorry. You didn't show up for the meeting this morning. You've been blowing off training. You haven't answered a single goddamn call. Not from me, not from Liam, not even from Brenna."
I shut the door and state, "Shit. I forgot about the meeting."
"Forgot? What the hell has gotten into you? Liam's going nuts between your and Sean's disappearing acts."
My chest tightens. I never shirked my obligations before the Underworld sank its claws into me. I give a weak excuse. "It's been busy."
"Busy?" Finn steps so close that his breath hits my face. "Busy doing what? You've vanished off the grid more than once. You think you can disappear without consequences?"
My jaw ticks. "Finn?—"
"No." He slices the air with his hand. "Don't 'Finn' me. I've been hunting your ass for forty-eight hours. We thought maybe you were dead in a ditch. Killian wants your head. Brenna's blowing up my phone asking if she should be planning a funeral."
