He seems horrified. “I don’t think I can do it.”
“My life is on the line,” I remind him.
“You’re right. I don’t want to lose you before I bed you.”
I sigh, unsure what exactly that has to do withanything. “No.”
“Are you sure? Well… if you insist… I think I’ll take one of those naps you’re most fond of. ‘Just five more minutes.’”
I lightly smack a book I’ve finished down on his chest as he “oofs” and grabs it. “Let’s do three more each and then we’ll find something to eat.”
“Okay,” he agrees.
“I’m… a bit nervous to see what you eat here.”
“I would be too,” he says, crawling over and setting his head on my lap before picking his book back up.
“What are you doing?” I ask as I stare at the shameless display since Kit is also staring at the shameless display.
“I’m tired of holding my head up.”
“Your life isn’t that exhausting.”
“It really is,” he says, but he’s flipping through the book with remarkable speed, so I leave him to it and click at Kit. Kit leaps onto Torin’s chest before setting her front feet on his book and using it to launch off to land on my shoulder. However, Torin was expecting none of it, and I justbarelycatch the way the book smashes into his face.
I choke back a laugh as the god looks over at me.
“Excuse me?” he growls.
“Kit, careful. I kind of thought he was like a discount-price god in the sense that he probably just wanders around and harasses people, but after seeing his house, I guess he’s the real thing.”
Torin looks flabbergasted. “You didn’t think I was a real god?”
“I’m going to be completely honest… it was questionable.”
The shock on his face amuses me. “But I’m so godly.”
“Handsomeness doesn’t dictate godliness.”
He glowers at me, so I shield Kit’s eyes. “Stop looking at him. We’re focused.”
Torin presses his head harder against my lap in case I’ve forgotten he’s there—I most definitely haven’t. It’s like there’s this heat rising in my body that I have to do everything I can to stomp down. Imagine his smug face if I began to get hard?
The book I’m flipping through that depicts some rather gruesome magical spells does distract me.
“Are you an evil god?” I ask.
“Depends who you ask,” he says as he keeps flipping.
It reminds me again that I know absolutely nothing about this man.
“You freely keep these books in your library? What if someone with ill intentions comes across them?”
He tilts the book so he can see what I’m talking about without having to sit up. “You think someone’s brave enough to steal from a god?”
“This is some serious magic.”
“It’s fine,” he says.
