I’ve never been good at self-restraint.
“That depends.” Dropping my camouflage, I step out of the wall and stare at her with newfound interest. “Is it working?”
She tilts her head, considering, and darts a swift look at the books in her arms, clutching them tighter. “Actually… yeah, it really is. Do me a favor and don't tell my brother.”
Brother? Where the hell has he been while my girl’s been out traipsing around in the cold alone, then?
“Anywho,” she says, breaking me out of my murderous thoughts. “What's the trap for?”
… Fuck. I really didn’t think about what I’d do if I got this far.
Suddenly panicking, I discreetly pull one of my knives and slice my palm, holding it out to her as if I have every right to be here. Nothing suspicious about it at all.
“Was hoping to bribe you into helping me out?” Shamelessly, I show off my bloody palm, flexing it a bit to make it bleed more. “I know firsthand that you do a better job than anyone at the hospital can. Seeing as I love myself, I insist on only the best.”
She snorts, but her cheeks warm. As if shelikesthe idea of being needed.
Note to self, my girl needs a hype man. Consider me hired.
I’ll happily hobble myself every morning if it helps put that look on her face again.
“You're ridiculous,” she says with an exaggerated eyeroll that has my cock perking up with interest and sets her stack on the counter. “Fine, let me take a look.”
She pauses when her hand’s a hairsbreadth from mine and shoots me a defiant look. “But I'm keeping the books.”
Fuck, she’s precious.
“Of course.” I’d steal her an entire bookstore if it'd make her happy.
Actually, that's brilliant. Then she won’t be able to leave once I bring her home; too many pretty distractions. She'll never make it out of the library. Like an escape room, bookworm edition.
I get that better than most people. Attention spans are… not my strong suit. Probably a byproduct of having to keep tabs on every single thing happening around me while living on the streets so I didn’t wake up to a shiv in my kidney, or maybe it’s got something to do with how I hyperfixate on the things that interest me. Life is hard, but for fleeting moments, at least it’s interesting.
Until it’s not.
As much as I hate to admit it, I’m very much team- bored now, moving on. No regrets, it lets me experience everything life has to offer in bite-sized pieces. But I’ve yet to find something that survives my hyperfixation mode longer than a few weeks.
Until now.
Something tells me that Kiara is an obsession I won’t ever outgrow.
She takes my hand in hers, a warm glow suddenly flooding my veins, and I close my eyes with a shuddering breath, not realizing how badly I’ve been craving her touch since that first day. It’s not even the soothing rush that does it for me, it’s… it’s…
Connection.
For a brief moment, I’m not alone. For a few seconds, somebody actually gives a shit whether or not I’m in pain and cares enough to take it away. Sheseesme.
I’ve made a career out of hiding in plain sight. There isn’t a soul on this earth that can outmatch my skills. But it wasn’t until Kiara saw me that I realized how desperately I wanted someone to.
No, not someone.Her.
“There you go,” my obsession says, quickly yanking her hands away and tucking them into her pockets. Instantly, I scowl. I feel her absence keenly, and Ihate it.
“Are you sure? It’s still tingling.”
A tiny furrow appears between her brows, looking down at my hand, but she stubbornly refuses to touch me again for some unfathomable reason.
Dear gods, what is this woman doing to me? Since when do I let anyone touch me, let alonewantit? Maybe that warm, intoxicating rush is actually her poisoning me. That makes more sense.
