She drops her hand too quickly. Frankie claps. “Let’s go, lovebirds. Shirts off and bodies up. I got work to do.”
I peel off my shirt, tossing it aside, and drop onto the chair. Frankie sterilizes my skin and turns on the machine. The buzz fills the room, vibrating through the floor, through my ribs, through her.
Valentina stands so close I could rest my head on her stomach if I tilted forward. Her hand finds my thigh—hesitant at first, then steady. Claiming. Her thumb brushes tiny arcs against my skin whenever the needle digs a little deeper.
The pain is nothing compared to that touch.
Her voice drops to a whisper. “Does it hurt?”
“Some.”
“Don’t lie.”
I look up at her, feeling the pull between us like a magnetic field snapping tight. “It hurts less with you touching me.”
Her breath catches audibly.
Frankie mutters something about lovesick disasters under her breath, but I barely hear it.
Then—
The front door slams open.
Heavy boots. Loud voices. The sudden shift in atmosphere as five, maybe six Vipers spill inside the shop. Their energy is sharp, chaotic, loud enough that Valentina jerks in surprise.
Frankie goes rigid.
“Of course they’re early,” she mutters.
The voices grow louder.
One man barks, “Killian’s gonna lose his shit?—”
Another laughs crudely. “Man, he’s whipped. Ever since that girl?—”
There’s a crash. Flesh hitting wall. A muffled cry. A hard thud of knuckles meeting bone.
Valentina’s eyes widen.
Mine narrow.
That last voice—the calm, cold one telling the others to shut up—that’s Axel.
Killian’s twin.
Golden boy body. Ice-blue eyes. Violence polished into something elegant. My equal in all the worst ways.
Frankie rushes into the front. “Knock it off! Axel!”
The buzzing in my chest goes sharp.
I shift, rising halfway out of the chair. Valentina immediately grips my arm—her fingers shaking.
I turn toward her without thinking, cupping her jaw gently, running my thumb along the line where tension holds tight. “I won’t let anything touch you,” I say, voice low and certain, like a promise carved into stone.
Her lips part in a soft, startled breath.
Another crash from the front. A chair skidding. Frankie yelling.
