Page 40 of Toxic Kiss

“What does that mean?”

Cy’s brow furrows, and he looks genuinely confused. How can he even ask me that? Then again, our one night was nothing more than a blip on his radar. Probably forgot it even happened.

We aren’t going to get anywhere with this conversation. My gaze drops to his hand. The bandage is new.

“What the hell happened to your hand?”

Without thinking, I grab his arm and inspect the white wrapping that is so thick it looks like he’s getting ready to climb into a boxing ring.

He looks down like he forgot all about it.

“Cut it. Shaving.”

“Uh…huh…sure.”

Cy just pulls the glasses down and gives me a wink.

I narrow my eyes.

“Did you punch something?”

“Relax. No walls, doors, or even cars were harmed in the making of this wound,” he teases.

But I’m not laughing as he lists off all the things he’s put his fist through in the past. I know Cyrus, and he is hiding something.

I hold his hand tighter, and his thumb runs over my fingers, making my heart skip a beat. Stepping in closer before I can stop myself, I lower my voice.

“Cy?”

“Haven?”

“Please tell me that the police aren’t going to show up here and that you don’t need stitches.”

A dark chuckle rumbles from his chest. Good to see I still amuse him.

“I’m fine. I promise, Butterfly.”

“Don’t call me that. And saying you’re fine is not the same as answering the question.”

His eyes linger on me, longer than they should. They bounce around my face and settle on my lips. The moment stretches and warps. Something pulls tight between us like the breath before a scream.

“I should get back inside,” I say, letting his hand go.

He actually steps aside, but his eyes never leave me. As I pass by, he grabs my arm. I freeze and look up at him, then immediately regret that decision. His icy eyes chill me to the bone as much as they warm me to my core.

“Charles may have made his claim public. But I’ve got the pieces he’ll never touch,” Cyrus says, his fingers lingering before he lets go.

“Don’t, Cy.”

“Don’t what?”

“This…whatever you call this. Don’t act like you want something more. We both know that’s bullshit,” I say and turn to leave.

“Haven?” I stop and look over my shoulder. “I prefer your hair in the wild colors, especially the red, it suits who you really are inside. This blonde just looks…like you’re trying to fit into a life where you don’t belong.”

I press my lips together, wanting to jump on him and smack the smirk right off his face. Instead, I choose the high road and walk away. But that doesn’t stop the feeling of his stare on my back. It’s as if it holds electricity, the sensation crawling down my spine.

Dangerous…Cyrus Vale needs to wear a warning label and have an electric fence around him like at Jurassic Park.