“Why didn’t you tell me?” I roll over so we’re facing one another, though it’s pitch dark in here, and I can only just make out his profile as he stares at the ceiling.
His body stiffens, and he pulls the blankets over me with dispassionate precision. “I do not tell anyone. And you cannot either.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Shock roughens his tone, and he pushes up on an elbow with a groan. “That is your only response?”
Our brush with death is fresh in my memories again, and I shudder. “Sin, you saved our lives. Youflewus out of that garage, past two men and a Fae who wanted to kill us—or turn us into zombies—and halfway across the city. With a piece of fucking rebar sticking out of your back. What do you expect me to say? Besides...’thank you’?”
Sin falls back down next to me. “You are truly unique in this world, Zoe. I am not certain any other, be they human or divine, would have been this…accepting. Or calm.”
“I do have a question.” It’s getting harder to stay awake, and I curl away from Sin and burrow deeper under the blankets, suddenly chilled. He follows, warming me with his body pressed to mine.
“Ask.”
“You have this huge apartment. I’m pretty sure I saw a guest room. Why am I in your bed? I took a shower, but after that…everything’s fuzzy.”
He sighs, his breath warm against my cheek. “You gave me more of your energy than I thought possible.” His voice too takes on a sleepy, slow cadence. “I was worried for you. Staying close will help us regain our strength faster.”
“Is that—“ I yawn, “—the whole answer?”
“No.” Sin runs his nose along my neck with a satisfied hum. “I did not wish to be parted from you. I needed to hold you and ensure you were safe. Sleep now, Zoe. In the morning, things will return to normal.”
He sounds so sad, as if “normal” is the last thing he wants. And as I drift off, I think it might be the last thing I want as well.
* * *
The scentof coffee rouses me, and when I stretch under the expensive sheets, my body feels almost healed. Except for my legs. Reaching down, I find bruises along the backs of my thighs, just above my knees.
The lockers. They fell, pinning me, and Sin tossed them like they weighed nothing at all. A bathrobe lies across the foot of the bed, and I belt it tightly, my cheeks burning as I realize I’m naked other than one of Sin’s silk shirts. At least it’s long enough to cover…most of what needs covering.
My partner—clad only in a pair of dark pajama pants and nothing else—lounges on a cream-colored sofa in front of a gas fireplace, staring out the large windows at a view of half the city. Cradling the cup of coffee like it’s the elixir of life itself, he doesn’t move a single muscle unnecessarily as he takes a sip.
“I just brewed a fresh pot,” he says, his gaze never leaving the skyline. “A courier will be here within the hour with clothing for you, but I am afraid I have little to no actual food here. If you tell me what you’d like, I will have it delivered.”
I’ve just walked into an episode ofThe Twilight Zone.
“You had someone go buy me clothing?”
Slowly, he turns his head and focuses on me. The power in his blue eyes hits me square in the chest, and I take a step back.
“You would prefer to go into work wearing only my shirt? That can be arranged.”
“I owe you an apology, then,” I mutter as I pour myself a cup of coffee so strong, I’m actively wary of the first sip. “Clearly I took the ‘right’ side of the bed last night. You definitely got up on the ‘wrong’ one.”
Sin cages me against the counter before I realize he’s moved, and the mug slips from my hand. He catches it, but not before the hot liquid splashes my fingers.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters and spins me towards the sink, wrenches the faucet, and thrusts my hand under cold water. “I do not know how to do this, Zoe.”
“Do what? Avoid spilling coffee all over your partner? That’s pretty damn simple.Do. Not. Touch. Me.”
“I cannot help it.” His breath stutters, drawing my focus to his chest—and the heavily scarred but still damn sexy eight-pack ending in avat his waistband. “I am drawn to you in a way I have never felt before.”
“You’re hungry,” I whisper. “That’s all this is.”
“Perhaps. But I can control my appetites. What I feel for you is different.” He shuts off the water and carefully dries my hand. “Does it still hurt?”
“No. Not...really.” Hurt isn’t the word. When Sin touches my fingers, little sparks of electricity run up and down my arm. He’s not the only one who doesn’t know what the hell is going on here. “Scale of one to ten. How hungry are you right now?”
