“It’s…” Justin looks from me to the book, and then back again, grimacing. “Sydney, this book is terrible.”
I raise an eyebrow, crossing my arms lightly.
“There’s barely any plot,” he continues. “And the character’s motivations are all over the place. In one scene, Malachiprofesses his undying love for her, and in thevery next scene, he says they can’t be together. And his reasoning is… It’s absurd. It’s infuriating nonsense. And I don’t understand half the powers these people are supposed to have. There’s no consistency between descriptions, either. Are his eyes piercing bright, or are they dark as a moonlit night? Because theycan’tbe both.”
“I see.”
“Look, I know you love it,” Justin tells me, brandishing the book. “But…”
I hold up my hand to stop him. “Oh no, I get it. It’s certainly no Special Agent Callahan. A man who is seven feet tall, yet completely inconspicuous in a crowd. Who can tell people are lying bymicroexpressions.” I arch an eyebrow. “I looked that up, you know. Pseudoscience. It’s not a real thing.”
“Yeah, but he?—”
“Sleeps with a new woman in every book?” I offer, cutting him off. I lean my hip against the stack of chairs, giving him a look. “Most of whom he literally just rescued from almost being sexually assaulted and murdered?”
Justin stammers, his ears turning pink.
“Those books? They’re male power fantasy. These books.” I gesture toward his copy ofThe Prince’s Knife. “They’re female power fantasy. That’s the difference. Maybe one day you can see past your dick-centric universe to get it.”
A shocked laugh bursts out of him. “My dick-centric universe?” he repeats. “Jesus, Sydney!”
“It’s true! You could stand to learn something from these books,” I tell him.
“That’s why I wanted to read this one,” Justin admits, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I’m trying to read more romance. But this stuff isdark. It feels, I don’t know, dangerous? Like, if this is what women like…”
“Just because a woman enjoys reading about something, that doesn’t necessarily mean she wants that in real life,” I say firmly.
“I’m starting to get that,” Justin murmurs. Then he smiles, a little warily. “Maybe tomorrow you can recommend something lighter? Help break me out of mydick-centricworld view?”
“I’m sure I can find you something,” I relent, mentally preparing a list of options for him.
He grins. “Thanks. I should head out for the night. Want me to take these back to the stockroom?”
He gestures at the stack of chairs, and I shake my head.
“No, you head home. I’ve got this.”
We wish each other goodnight, and he gives me a dimpled smile and a wave before he disappears, heading toward the café. I heave a sigh and turn to finish cleaning up, when I walk directly into a wall.
Or at least what I thought was a wall.
20
SYDNEY
I slaminto a man’s chest with enough force that I bounce off, stumbling back and almost losing my balance. A long-fingered hand shoots out, catching me by the arm and steadying me.
My mouth goes dry.
Sebastian.
I forgot how tall he is. I have to tilt my chin up to look at him. When I do, he’s exactly as I remember, sharp-featured and brutally handsome, cold blue eyes framed by thick glasses. But he’s not looking at me. His gaze is locked over my shoulder, his expression cold.
“Who was that?” Sebastian asks in a low voice.
“Who?”
“The man you were just talking to.” His hand tightens on my arm, but he doesn’t seem to notice. I glance over my shoulder, frowning at where Justin just disappeared from view. “The man who’s been following you aroundall day.”
