Page 336

“Hitman?”

“Yeah?”

Her eyes sparkle with something I don’t like. “Shut up and fuck me.”

I ignore the uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. The one that says it’s going to be fucking agony to walk away from her.

Enjoy the moment.

So I do, pleasuring her as much as myself until we’re both shaking, panting, sweaty messes collapsed against my kitchen table.

I pull out and silently put my sweatpants back on. I don’t know what comes over me, but as she fixes her panties and shirt and turns around to walk away, I catch her wrist.

She looks up at me, surprised.

My mouth is on hers, kissing her like tomorrow might be our last moment together.

Then I swat her ass and let her go.

I could sit down and drink my coffee.

But I don’t.

Instead, I silently come up beside her and help her cook.

“Roman—”

“Don’t.” My voice lowers. “Just… don’t.”

She nods and keeps scrambling the eggs while I whip up pancakes.

The kitchen is so quiet I can hear Scooby-Doo coming from Alibi’s iPad.

“Stop staring at the bowl.”

“But… it’s pancakes.”

“Yeah.”

“Everything in your fridge is healthy.”

“I’m aware.”

“Do you eat pancakes?”

“No.”

She blinks.

“But you do.”

She stops, a spatula in her hand.

“I know more than you think, Chaos.” I wink at her. “Don’t ask. I’m not telling you.”

She turns away, but I don’t miss the huge smile on her face.

My heart does some stupid thing. I pretend to ignore it.