To them, Kylie isn’t an asset anymore. So if they still tried to get her, it would be to kill her. Just like they did with her own mother. And that realization is a dark, dark thought. It’s so dark that I make a concerted effort not to let it sit in my head. Because of our bond, Kylie can read my thoughts just like I can hers.
And the last thing I want to do is scare her.
“Hey…” She reaches up, fingers curling into my shirt, tugging me closer. “Where’d you go?”
I shake my head. “Nowhere for you to be concerned about.”
She quirks an eyebrow. “You’re hiding something from me.”
I don’t lie, but I don’t confirm either.
“Rook,” she says, her gaze searching mine the entire time. “You’re actively keeping me out of your mind.”
“Yeah, I am,” I admit. “But it’s because there’s some shit I don’t want to fill your head with.”
She examines my face for a long moment, and I can actually feel her trying to get inside my thoughts.
Don’t keep stuff from me, Rook,her mind whispers inside my own.Whatever is happening, we’re in this together.
I know, baby. I know. But just trust me on this, okay? Right now, I don’t want you thinking about this shit.
Is this about the elites? The ones who want to kill you.
I nod.
Promise to tell me eventually?
I hesitate, but when she narrows her eyes, I nod. Anyone else, and I wouldn’t have any issues lying to them. Keeping shit from them. I would tell myself it’s for their own good, and that would be that.
But with Kylie? It goes against everything to lie to her.
“More than love you, baby,” I tell her, and a soft smile crests her lips.
“More than love you too.” She rises to her feet and gets on her tippy-toes to press a soft kiss to my jaw.
But I can’t stop myself from taking it further.
Without hesitation, I lift her into my arms—her legs wrapped around my waist—and I kiss her. I back her toward the counter, resting her ass on the top of it, and my hands settle at her hips as I deepen our kiss.
The pulse between us explodes, and that kiss turns into a frantic mess of lips and tongue and teeth and hands.
“Rook,” she breathes.
I rest my forehead against hers. “Tell me to stop.”
She doesn’t.
She slides her hands into my hair, and her mouth finds mine again. I deepen the kiss, every instinct urging me forward, the world narrowing down to this—her warmth, her trust, the certainty pounding through me.
And I’m about to have my wicked way with her right here on the kitchen counter when the sounds of footsteps echo inside my ears.
My head snaps up, every sense flaring.
Kylie stiffens. “What—”
“Stay here,” I murmur, already turning toward the door.
But when it opens, Calloway steps inside like he owns the place—which, to be fair, he does. His gaze flicks from the table to Kylie on the counter to me standing far too close.
