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Stopping just out of reach, she cocks a hip. “Are you opting to get a better one?”
Finally, I meet her eyes. “Yes.”
Her smile kills me—undoes my atoms, unravels my cells. Shaking her head, she folds her arms, and—truly—she shouldn’t be allowed the action. “I took the liberty of clearing your schedule. We have a five-hour gap starting now.”
Five entire hours. I could take a nap. I could stand up, back Briar into bed, and discover the three final square inches hidden beneath her outfit. The only thing stopping me is my current exhaustion mixed with a numb sense of moral inhibition.
Masquerading as someone who can breathe, I recline. “What in the world would you like me to do with five free hours, princess?”
Heat paints her cheeks. “Take me out on a date.”
The way my heart lightens at the mere possibility she’s processed whatever emotions she needed to and decided she wants to be with me cannot be healthy.
“You know how you’ve learned to run your meetings like a neurotic dictator with a color-coded agenda?”
I had not, no. All the same, I arch a brow. “Sure?”
“Bring some of that energy to this conversation. I’m yours for the next five hours, baby.” She sits on my coffee table and crosses her legs.
Her shoes match her outfit perfectly—the love child of boots and strappy heels. Her flawless coordination does bad things to my heart. “That’s not a chair.” However, now that I’m thinking about it, I don’t think there’s a single surface of mine I’ve not seen her on. The second the thought enters my head, I need metaphorical bleach to get it out. Yanking my attention off her, toward the several feet of perfectly good couch beside me, I murmur, “Not that it matters.”
“It does. Where would you like me to sit?”
In my lap.
I squeeze my eyes closed, and this is truly, truly agony. Frick. Hoarse, I whisper, “I’ve missed you, Briar.”
Her hand slips around my fist, loosening my fingers. Soft, she says, “I missed you, too. Are you ready to go?”
Am I ready to go murder anyone who looks at her twice?
Rising, I draw her fingertips to my lips and kiss as I meet her eyes. “Absolutely.”
Chapter 30
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ah, classic.
Briar
Allowing Rowan to micromanage a date was a bad idea. I should have been more specific about what I wanted. Which was a quiet restaurant meal with enough normal people to witness a very casual sort of conversation, ending with mutual understanding and agreement.
Rowan and I cannot continue like this.
I let this situation between us get out of hand, and it needs to stop now.
Or…maybe it needs to stop right after this horrible, no good, rotten movie…
“That’s a lot of blood,” Rowan murmurs beneath me, since I am currently using his entire body for emotional support in this empty theater he decided to rent out. Hand to his chin, he looks like a sexy scientist, analyzing the guts and gore on the massive screen behind me. “She should already be dead.”
Shuddering as screams fill the dark room, I bury my face against Rowan’s chest and breathe in the safe, rusty scent of him. “I hate you,” I whisper.
He chuckles. “No, you don’t.”
Those three soft words belong anywhere but here while some deranged murdering spirit derived vaguely from mythology strings people up in trees for no feasible reason. “You’ve done this on purpose. You’re the worst.”
“I assure you your full-body reaction leaves me genuinely shocked.”
