Huffing out an amused breath, I tighten my hold for a moment, since I can feel it coming to an end. “I couldn’t agree more. Far too much to be done to waste time on superficial conversations for the sake of being polite to people that don’t matter.”
She pulls away, wiping at her cheeks, but there’s a small smile on her face again. And as I’m coming to learn; it’s genuine. Any interaction she has with someone, she wants it to be real, to make up for so much lost time and experiences.
She wears her heart on her sleeve because she’s braver than any of us; fully aware it will likely be broken, but willing to try anyway.
“Speaking of, our dinner break went a bit off the rails there.” Reaching into her purse, she pulls out a few dollar bills. “What do you say we go on a vending machine hunt for some caffeine and get back to it? My treat.”
Opening the door, I gesture with a sweep of my arm for her to lead the way. “What sane person would turn down an offer like that? Overtimeanda can of carbonated poison? Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
Her laughter bounces off the walls as she strides past me. “Looks aside, it’s easy to tell you and Cinjin are twins.”
Forcing myself to tuck my hand in my pocket instead of putting it on her lower back, I grin. “What can I say, dark humor is the best kind. The bad shit is going to happen either way, so may as well cope with a laugh instead of letting it get to you. And really, bubbly death sounds like a delightful fallback plan if the tax evasion thing doesn’t work out.”
Chuckling, she stretches her arms over her head as we round the corner into the next hallway, groaning with her stretch. “Speaking of, what is it the rest of your brothers do? I imagine the-” she hesitates, glancing around to ensure we’re alone, but I highly doubt there’s more than fifteen people spread throughout the entire building since it’s nearing midnight. “-Emmy situation doesn't stem simply from being trust fund babies, but from the strings attached to the money.”
Her steps never falter, like we’re discussing something as innocuous as the weather. “Because I find it odd that Boden hasn't texted me all week after how insistent he was to get my number. For a minute I wondered if he was actually looking forward to our date, or if he was simply rolling along with Emmy’s matchmaking because he had nothing better to do. But then the dress thing he arranged with Cinjin made it clear that I wasn't crazy. So is he... somewhere that requires radio silence? Is this a situation I should be steering clear of?”
Fuck.
Stopping in front of the vending machine, she turns to face me, moonlight streaming in from the wall of windows to our left. Sending up a silent prayer, I admit, “Probably.”
Forgoing caution, she asks, “If I were to walk away right this second, could you promise me that no one would follow me?”
I run my tongue along the inside of my top teeth. “No.”
“You guys, or someone else?” she demands, cutting straight to the heart of the matter.
But I can’t lie to her, not when she’s been completely open with me, when she’d discover the truth in time anyway if this goes the way we’re hoping. “Both. You’ve been out in public with four of us on separate occasions, so I’m sure someone will have taken note of it and are curious.”
She crosses her arms over her chest, shifting her stance. “And you?”
“I could tell you that it would be us watching from the shadows to ensure our life didn’t spill over to you, but I think you already have a hunch that that’s only a partial truth.”
She dips her head slowly in a nod. “And the man that attacked Emmy. She didn’t want me to call the cops, and you were worried that he saw my face.” There isn’t an outright question, though it’s clear she wants confirmation on her theory now that she’s rapidly putting the pieces together faster than I anticipated.
“Like I said; if you were to walk away, we’d still keep an eye on you, especially until he’s been dealt with.”
Her lips press into a flat line before she suddenly makes a disbelieving sound, shaking her head with a smile and turning to put money in the machine. “I thought it was pretty damn convenient that Cin just so happened to be driving by yesterday, but after your declaration this morning, I thought you two arranged it to make sure I made it to the interview. That was simply a convenient coincidence since he was my designated ‘shadow’ for the day, though, wasn’t it?” She presses a button, the machine whirring as it kicks out a can.
“Are you mad?”
She repeats the process before scooping them both up and offering me one. “As fucked up as it is, I think I’m actually... flattered?” She cracks open hers and takes a long drink. “I’m sure the two of us are smart enough to figure out that it’s a direct result of my childhood trauma; the unloved child, alone in the dark and wishing someone would emerge from the shadows to save her.” She takes another drink, turning to gaze out the window beside us, staring off into the night. “Isn’t that what everyone secretly wants? Someone that will stick around, even if things are hard? That refuses to abandon you even if you push them away because you’re scared?”
Closing the distance between us, I cup the nape of her neck, her attention returning to me a split second before I crush my lips against hers. She stiffens in surprise, but quickly melts against me, fisting the front of my shirt with her free hand. Swiping my tongue against the seam of her lips, she opens for me, tongue rolling with mine as I claim her mouth.
Wrapping my other arm around her, she shivers as the drink in my fist presses against her spine. It drives her closer, a small gasp slipping from her lips that I swallow greedily. The scent of her arousal begins to saturate the air, pulling a low growl from my throat, spurring me on.
Invisible claws rake down the inside of my chest, the pressure increasing until I’m forced to tear myself away. If I don’t stop now... I’m not sure I’ll be able to, and that scares the living hell out of me. I’m not this sort of person, a slave to my baser instincts. I was a fool to think my senses were overwhelmed before, because Sabrina? She’s the most exquisite form of torture.
Resting my forehead against hers, I close my eyes, catching my breath. Gradually, she loosens her grip on my shirt. “Are you... purring?”
The rumbling in my chest cuts off instantly as my eyes snap open, not even aware I was doing it, or capable of it for that matter. I have my other half buried in so many chains, it’s a backhanded miracle that he’s still able to move at all. But now that I’ve made up my mind that she’s mine, it’s bringing out the worst in me, my other half thinking it has some claim over her as well.
“No. That'd be weird.”
And I said I’d never lie to her. Shit.
Her eyes sparkle with laughter as she pulls away. “Don’t be embarrassed, it’s cute.” The teasing look rapidly morphs into concern as everything catches up to her. “Fuck, I made this entire situation more complicated, didn’t I? Shit, I should text-”
