Safe.
Predictable.
And it’s exactly what I need after days of Kane invading my thoughts like an uninvited storm.
I adjust Twist a little higher and turn another page, smiling at a particularly delicious passage about hidden longings. My legs are tucked under me on the worn leather chair, fuzzy socks peeking out from my jeans. The radiator warmth, the weight of the book, Twist’s steady presence, it’s all so perfect I could stay here until closing.
Then a shadow falls over the page.
A tall, broad shadow.
My heart slams against my ribs. I jerk my head up, mouth already opening to scream?—
“Aaaa—”
A large hand covers my mouth, firm but not painful. Dark eyes lock onto mine.
It’s Kane. Crouched down right beside my chair, his expensive suit jacket brushing my knee, that neat black beard and silver-threaded hair unmistakable even in the low light.
“Relax, William,” Kane murmurs, voice low and gravelly, that faint Russian accent wrapping around the words like smoke. “I’m not here to hurt you.Breathe.”
My eyes are wide. Panic surges for half a second:scream, run, call for help.
But something in his steady gaze holds me. Kane doesn’t look wild or dangerous right now. Just… intense. In control.
I give a tiny nod.
Kane removes his hand slowly, watching me the whole time.
I suck in a shaky breath. “Are youstalkingme?”
Kane’s lips twitch. Then he laughs…low, rich, genuinely amused. The sound vibrates through me in ways I don’t want to examine right now.
“Stalking?” he asks, more than a hint of mockery in his voice.
Irritation flares hot in my chest. “It’s not funny,” I whisper-hiss, clutching Twist tighter like a shield. “I’m trying to study and you just appear out of nowhere like some… some damn ghost!”
Kane’s dark eyes sparkle with something dangerously close to delight. “Ghost. I like that.” He stays crouched, perfectly balanced, one powerful forearm resting on his thigh. “I wasn’t stalking you. I came in for a book. Saw you. Decided fate was being less subtle than usual.”
I narrow my eyes. My cheeks feel warm. My special places tingles and my cock quickly begin to twitch and grow.
Fuck.
Kane tilts his head. “You’ve been here for hours. You need a break. Come with me. There’s a late-night café across the street. Coffee for you. Hot milk for the otter, if he behaves.”
I can’t help but smile as Kane nods at Twist, and my blush explodes across my face like wildfire. Heknows. He understands what a stuffie means in a place like this, in the hands of a boy like me. The casual way he offers it makes my stomach flip.
“I… I shouldn’t,” I stammer, even as my brain screams that this is a terrible, dangerous, incredibly tempting idea.
“Youshould,” he says simply. “One coffee. Then you can come back to your books and pretend I don’t exist.”
Despite every instinct yellingbad idea, bad idea, run back to your blanket fort, I find myself nodding.
“Fine,” I mutter. “But only because I need caffeine if I’m going to finish this chapter tonight.”
Kane’s smile is slow and satisfied. He offers his hand. I take it—his palm is warm, calloused, impossibly strong—and he helps me up like I weigh nothing.
I slip Twist into my backpack, grab my book, and follow him out of the library on slightly wobbly legs.
