Wrinkles deepen around his eyes. For a moment, I think he’s not going to say a word. After pressing his lips together, he speaks.
“No one can get in touch with Giacomo. After what happened to you, we’re not moving from this spot until he’s located. Understand?”
I know he just saved my life, I know I made a terrible decision chasing after people because the craving for a friend was so strong, and I know I’m at fault here, but something about the way Falco speaks irritates me.
Maybe it’s the alcohol or the adrenaline still pumping rapidly around my system.
Maybe it’s my close call with death, I’m not sure. But everything about Falco suddenly irritates me.
From his dark hair to his rough, handsome face, right down to his sexy, strong hands that somehow caught me when I fell and lifted me like I weighed absolutely nothing, it irritates me.
How can we go through that and yet he still talks to me like I’m nothing?
“Maybe I don’t understand,” I say, stepping closer to him. “Maybe you need to word it clearer.” As I reach out to touch his elbow, he sidesteps me, but I follow. “You can’t even look at me, can you? Is that in your fucking guidebook on how to keep me safe? Sure, you’ll kill people and throw yourself after me, but a normal conversation? Is that really so hard?”
Falco keeps his back to me until I shove both my hands into him and he stumbles ever so slightly into the table.
“Why won’t you look at me, huh?”
He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t move. He’s like a statue and a weight settles in my chest, inflating with every passing second until I can barely breathe.
“I almost died!” I gasp. “You saved my life and then it’s like a switch has flicked and you’re back to being this cold, dead statue. What the fuck is wrong with you? Am I hideous or something?Are you so fucking disgusted that you can’t stand being latched to someone like me? Well, sorry, not all women are paper-thin like my mother, okay? Not everyone can be like her. Don’t you think I’ve yearned to be like her since the day I knew I was different? Maybe then I would have friends and I wouldn’t have to chase after killers because I’m so desperate for someone to talk to me!”
Falco spins on the spot and suddenly grabs my shoulders. His lips part ever so slightly, and a fleck of light returns to his eyes as his gaze locks onto mine. “Aerin. Stop. You’re drunk. You need coffee and sleep.”
“No, I don’t!” I snap, shoving at him again despite how he doesn’t move. “I feel alive, do you know what that’s like? I feel like I can see and smell everything, I can feel everything, which means you being such a dick is amplified and it sucks! What’s your problem, huh? You can’t look at me unless I’m yelling at you, is that it?”
Falco’s eyes dart back and forth between my own, but he doesn’t flinch despite how loud I yell. He just stands there and takes it, which infuriates me further.
But his hands are on my shoulders and that warmth seeps deep into my heart, soothing some of the pressure that’s restricting my breathing.
Am I this starved of attention?
“Say something!”
“What do you want me to say?” Falco says quietly, his tone flat. “I don’t care about your mother or your family. I’m here to do a job.”
“A job? You save my life and I’m just a job to you? Is there nothing human inside you that can give even a word of comfort?” Back on the walkway, Falco was warm.
He held me close to his chest until I stopped crying, then he took my hand and cupped my face so I didn’t have to see the bodies while he guided me down the steps to the ground.
That Falco made my heart flutter.
This one infuriates me.
“It’s my duty,” Falco replies in that same tone. “I swore an oath to your father and I’ll follow that through to the end. Which includes making sure you don’t leave my sight even for a second after the stunt you just pulled.”
“You think that was a stunt?” I roll my eyes. “You’ve spent the past week tearing my life apart and you think tonight was a stunt? How can you know everything about me and yet know nothing. Some fucking guard you are.”
“Aerin, you’re drunk.”
“I’m not! I’m actually perfectly sober, I’m just feeling so fucking alive that nothing else really matters. Not that you’d know. If I were drunk, would I do this?”
It surges up like a wave inside me, and as Falco speaks I throw myself forward into his chest and clutch at his shirt.
There’s a second, a single second when my lips brush against his and his stubble tickles my chin and my cheek.
His lips are soft. Softer than I’d expect of a man so hard and grumpy, but they’re as soft as clouds and warm too.
