“Did you find something there?”
I turned my head slightly and met Oblivion’s gaze across the room after his head snapped up at the mention of his club. This told me that his immortal skills obviously extended to having excellent hearing…damn him!
“Nothing exciting… it was really disappointing actually, no one of significance or anyone that could help me,” I replied lightly, letting irony wrap around the words as I held his starefor just a fraction too long. One of his brows lifted in challenge, calling me out on my bullshit once more.
“Oh, well, that’s lame… please say he was at least hot?” she asked, and heat flooded my face instantly. I turned away again, staring at the wall as though it held the secrets of the universe.
Behind me, I heard the faintest shift of movement, and when I glanced back, the corner of his mouth had curved in quiet amusement. Entirely aware that he was the subject of a conversation, he could not hear in full but clearly understood in implication. So, I decided to challenge him in return. Starting with making a show of looking him up and down, taking in every available inch of his towering, muscular frame before answering my sister.
“Not particularly.”
He smirked, and the slow rise of his brow carried the distinctive arrogant air of a man who had just accepted a challenge.
“Look,” I said quickly, before this spiraled any further.
“I’m really sorry, but I have to go. There’s a lot happening right now, but I will call you for a catch-up soon.”
“When?” she asked, not letting this go.
“I don’t know, maybe in like a week or…”
“Why don’t you come to the shop tonight? Mom’s been asking about you as she’ll be coming home in a few days,” Sabrina said, quick to interrupt me. And I would be lying if I said that the image of the shop didn’t hit harder than it should have. It’s warm and cluttered safe space should have been the only sanctuary I needed. And for a second, I nearly said yes, nearly promised something I knew I couldn’t deliver.
“I’ve got so much work on with this new campaign,” I said carefully, each word chosen with deliberate restraint.
“I’ll try to come by soon, though, okay? I promise,” I added, hating how I lied as it was a promise I knew I had no right tomake. Not when my future was so damn uncertain right now. And I couldn’t help if she had heard it in my voice, as there was a small pause, the kind filled with unspoken concern.
“Okay, but don’t disappear on me again. I love you, Lily-pad,” she said gently.
“I love you too,” I replied, the words catching slightly as I ended the call.
After that, the line went dead, and the silence that followed felt thicker than before. He had moved even closer while I was distracted, close enough that I could feel his presence like a shift in pressure behind me.
I slipped the phone back into my bag and swung the strap over my shoulder, then bent to lift the suitcase from the floor. The weight of it grounded me, something solid and ordinary in a situation that was anything but.
“Eliza.”
The sound of my name in his voice stopped me before I could take another step. Yet I didn’t turn as I couldn’t trust what might show on my face if I did. So, I stood there, facing the doorway, one hand gripping the strap of my handbag, the other wrapped around the handle of the suitcase, and I felt him slowly approach.
The air between us tightened as his fingers brushed the back of my neck. Not abruptly, not possessively in the crude sense, but with a measured softness that sent a tremor through me all the same. He gathered my hair to one side, clearing the line of my throat with careful precision, and the simple intimacy of the gesture made my breathing falter.
Then his breath warmed my skin.
He leaned closer, inhaling slowly, as though committing something to memory. A low sound rumbled faintly from him before he murmured against the curve of my neck,
“Lily-pad.”The nickname no longer sounded playful. It carried weight now, something deeper and far more intimate.
Before I could decide whether to pull away or lean into it, his hand slid down from my neck to the case I was holding. With effortless ease, he relieved me of it, taking the weight from my grasp without force, without argument, as though it had always belonged in his hand instead of mine.
Then he stepped past me.
As he did, his free hand closed around mine, not gripping hard enough to bruise but firm enough to remove any illusion that this was a request as he…
Led me from the room.
24
FROGS AND CAGES
