Page 174 of The Encore’s Crown

“What?”

“The story. Delete it.”

She glances down.

“People know the tattoos.”

Her face closes a little.

“Okay.”

She deletes it, just like that. Not even a joke or dramatic sigh. That should have set off every alarm in my head, but I chose the comfort of not looking too closely.

The rest of dinner slowly dies. She answers when I speak to her, but her attention drifts toward the windows. She smiles at the server. Takes a few more pictures. Eats less than half of what’s placed in front of her. I ask if she’s okay, she says she’s just tired but I know better. I also let her lie because I don’t want to ruin the night by forcing the thing beneath it into the open.

But the night's already ruined and I know it.

Back at my apartment, she barely kisses me before heading into the bedroom. I take a shower alone, which should have been the loudest indication that a natural disaster was approaching. When I come out wearing a towel around my waist, something flies past my head. I jerk backward. A small potted plant hits the wall and explodes across the floor. Soil scatters over the carpet.

“What the fuck?”

Natalia stands near the bed with her arms folded. I look at the broken pot, then back at her. She picks up the little clock from my nightstand.

“Nat. Wait!”

It comes at me. I catch it against my chest.

“Jesus Christ.”

“You have good reflexes.”

“Why are you throwing shit at me?”

“Because I’m mad.”

“I figured that out when the cactus attempted to murder me.”

She grabs a decorative pillow and throws that too. It hits me in the face.

“Okay. Okay. I get it, can we stop this please?”

“I’m not done.”

She reaches for the lamp. I cross the room before she can weaponize electricity and potentially set the apartment on fire, catching her around the waist and hauling her back against my chest. Her feet leave the floor for half a second before I plant them again, one arm locked across her middle while the other traps both of hers against her.

“Nat. Kroppy, what the fuck is happening?”

“Let me go, you dumb bear.” She twists in my grip, getting absolutely nowhere. “Your muscles should be illegal. It’s not fair. Let me go!”

A laugh escapes me before I can stop it. That was clearly the wrong reaction. I loosen my hold just enough to turn her in my arms, keeping one arm locked around her waist as I bring her around to face me. Her glare is already waiting, poisonous enough to peel paint. It darkens when she sees my smile.

“This isn’t funny.”

“You called me a bear while trying to kill me with a plant and an alarm clock.”

I set the lamp out of reach, then catch her wrists as she goes for something else. I hold them gently against her chest.

“Stop.”