Page 25 of Damián

“I can do it myself.” He smacks my hand away, and his cheeks flush.

Probably from annoyance.

He untucks his shirt and messes up his own hair, his movements all jerky and awkward.

I watch him, fascinated.

Fuck he looks so good.

Especially when he’s giving me attitude.

“I’ll see you in… three days?” I ask, and he nods. I double-tap my comm. “You heard that, guys, I’m on my way out. Björn, if you want, you can leave now.”

“We are almost at the pier,” Logan answers. “See you tomorrow at HQ.”

I smile at Oliver and head to the door.

“See you on Tuesday. Please try to look pining and desperate until then.”

I reach for the handle, but Oliver stops me and presses a button on the intercom panel next to his bed.

“Who are you calling?” I ask.

“Your escort. You can’t wander the halls alone.”

A moment later, there is a knock on the door. Oliver opens it, and a stiff, older man with white combed hair, thin glasses, and an expensive suit stands there.

“You called, sir?”

“Yes, Martin. Please escort my guest out.”

I laugh out loud. “That is the most Bruce Wayne shit I’ve ever seen.”

Oliver ignores my comment, but he looks hesitant.

He glances at Martin, then back at me.

He takes a breath, grabs me by the suspenders, and pulls me down until our lips meet in a soft peck. He steps back so I can leave, but before he’s too far, I grab Oliver by the nape of his neck and pull him closer.

I kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear, “See? Everything will be alright… This is the best plan ever.”

CHAPTER 4

OLIVER

“This is the worst plan ever, and now we’re all going to die.” I finish unloading the absolute trainwreck that was the gala mission onto my best friend, Zara, and sink into her purple velvet couch.

I stare at the ceiling, waiting for her to yell, to panic, or to tell me I’m insane for even agreeing to something this stupid… But she stays quiet, which is extremely unusual for her… as in, it has never happened before.

I look over, half expecting her to have died from shock, but Zara is just staring at me with those intense green eyes.

Her face is frozen in complete disbelief, and her fingers have stopped playing with her golden curls.

Her lips twitch…

Oh, crap… Is she going to cry? Is she choking?

Nope. None of the above.