Page 68

I lean back, crossing one leg over the other, and let an innocent smile pull at my lips. “Are you saying I make him nervous?”

Rei groans, resting his chin in his hand in exhaustion. “What is even going on between you two? Why do you want to kill each other?”

“I have no intention of killing him,” I say, shamelessly amused. “It would be an absolute tragedy for the world to lose a face that pretty.”

Dimitri’s jaw locks. His blue eyes narrow into dangerous slits. “Watch it.”

I meet his glare, deadpan. “Hm?”

“Don’t throw flirty remarks at him.” Dimitri’s tone drops into a warning. “He isn’t a toy, and don’t try to make him one. He doesn’t like men. And he especially doesn’t like you.”

He doesn’t like men.

If Dimitri had any idea what his precious best friend sounded like when I had him pinned to a desk, he’d choke on his own blood.

This man is exceptionally lucky he’s Rei’s boyfriend. If he were anyone else on earth, I’d have cut his throat ten minutes ago just for the tone.

I hold Dimitri’s stare, unblinking, and switch effortlessly into Japanese. “Omae wa hontou ni baka da na.”

Dimitri’s brow furrows. “What did you just say?”

Rei nudges my leg with his foot, glaring at me while he fires back in rapid Japanese. “Baka ja nai. Don’t say that to him.”

Dimitri’s eyes dart between the two of us, thoroughly irritated and completely excluded. “Hey. Tell me what you’re saying!”

I shrug and don’t answer. I just push myself up from the couch and smooth down my jacket.

“Anyway, I should go.”

Rei’s face falls for a second. I cross back to him, take the cookie box from where he’d set it aside, and place it back into his hands.

“I’ll come again tomorrow,” I tell him. “Wait for me, okay?”

His whole face lights up, and he nods quickly. “Okay. Get home safe.”

I ruffle his hair lightly. Dimitri watches the whole exchange with narrowed eyes, but he doesn’t say anything. He just pulls Rei closer and kisses his temple.

I say my goodbyes and walk away.

When I step out of the living room, I don’t head for the exit. Instead, I turn down the hall and push open the bathroom door.

Ilya is standing at the sink, hands braced on either side of it, water still dripping from his face. He looks up at the sound, startled, before it turns into anger.

I shut the door behind me and lock it.

“What the fuck—” he starts.

I cross the room before he finishes and crowd him back against the sink. One hand lands beside his hip against the counter, the other catches the edge of the sink on the other side of him, boxing him in before he can decide whether to bolt or bite.

His back hits porcelain, and his eyes flash.

“I don’t like being ignored, my prince.”

He stiffens. “Then die about it.”

A smile touches my mouth. “See? This is what I mean. You act like I don’t get under your skin, but you had to run away because I was looking at you too much.”

His jaw tightens. “I left because I needed to use the bathroom.”