“Who the hell is Shashi?” asks Assassin August.
“And what the hell does she know about any of it?” my August adds.
“Lots, probably.” I shove the gun down into my waistband, flinching at the cold against my skin while trying to look hard and dangerous. “She’s an associate professor of cosmology and theoretical mathematics at Cambridge University.”
“What?” August and August both shout.
“Yeah, she’s on sabbatical. I tried to tell you. But you were busy being all hot and jealous, and I was trying to get you to kiss me. You know, maybe if you’d just told me the world was ending…”
A few beats drop by where I watch August struggle with the new situation dawning on him. But all he asks is, “Would I still have gotten that kiss?”
Fucking hell. I am a wreck for this man and that cheeky smile of his.
“Probably not.”
“Then it was worth it.”
I hate that I’m so obsessed with him.
I take the gun out just so I can hold on to some sort of authority. “Hurry up. Let’s go. Everyone in the van.”
But as he walks by, he takes the time to drop a perfectly disarming kiss on my cheek.
Asshole.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
BAD AUGUST
IN FREEFALL
He is so… fucking… adorable.
We’re in the van, and he’s sitting opposite, holding the gun on Asshole August next to me.
I’m not sure he even knows how to use it. His finger isn’t on the trigger, but that’s most likely because his ex drives like a maniac and one bump might end us both.
I won’t pretend I don’t feel awful for everything I’m putting him through. But he’s handling it incredibly well. And all I can think about is how much I adore him.
Literally no man has ever disarmed a gunman and beaten him up on my behalf. It’s the single hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed. Well, besides fucking August last night, but that goes without saying.
August with a gun is next-level sexy. When he shoved it into his waistband, that flash of washboard abs… He’s so much better looking with it than Asshole August. What’s that even about? That guy isn’t anything compared to him.
I shouldn’t be thinking like this. But I’m going to be dead soon, so I may as well enjoy ruminating on the best thing life ever had to offer.
“What’s your world like?” August asks Asshole August. It’s a simple question. I know how much August cares about me, so I shouldn’t be jealous. But I still am.
“It’s quite different to this one,” Asshole August replies. Jon takes a speed bump too fast, and Asshole August’s shoulder slams into mine. “Much more advanced,” he grumbles, shoving me back to settle against the window again. “You’re still driving around on roads. We did that for a bit. Now they’re all gone. We’ve got transport systems that are automated. Everything’s automated back there, really. It does away with so much daily time-wasting.”
I can’t help the scoff. He’s such an asshole, with his fancy world.
He glares over at me. “From the short time I’ve spent here, it seems we’re more advanced in a lot of ways.”
“You’re already the most insufferable August I’ve ever met,” I tell him.
That gets a smile from my August. “So how many have you met?”
His vulnerability from earlier presses my ribs. It makes me ache all through that he could think I’d ever look at another one of us the same way. “Hundreds,” I tell him with complete honesty. “I’ve met every version of us. Just about.” I return the glare at my excursion partner.
