Page 20 of The Encore’s Crown

Kiri

My thumb stills against the railing. “Excuse me?”

I should laugh; that’s the move. Give her a grin, say something filthy, make it easy. Make it Bomos-shaped. Charm is useful because people mistake it for honesty if you do it well enough. But Natalia doesn’t, that’s the problem. She sees the mechanics under the trick. It’s irritating. It’s also, unfortunately, hot as hell.

“The bullshit,” I repeat. “Which bullshit specifically? I have a range.”

She can't hold back a smile of victory.

“The great and noble Kiri who listens to Rafe and behaves like a poor little kicked puppy? That range. I don't know which version to believe,” she says, tapping her nails on the metal. “The plans. The jokes about flying me out and meeting somewhere ridiculous so nobody would know. The way you said my name like…” She swallows, and I feel it like a punch. “It didn’t sound like bullshit.”

"It wasn't," I answer, almost too fast. She scoffs and tilts her head, narrowing her eyes. She doesn't believe me and I don't blame her.

“Was it some big joke?” She puts one hand on her hip, like she's gearing up to destroy me with whatever comes next. “Two sisters for the price of one? Rockstar package deal?”

"You were never a joke, Nat." She sighs, her shoulders sagging, her frustrated breath blown out over Seoul.

"Could've fooled me." Her eyes search for something, anything to stop the tears I can see forming every time she blinks. Her eyes find my hand gripping the rail so tight it might just break. “Why all the birds?” she asks suddenly, a deflection wrapped in the honey of her voice.

Her fingers trail the tattoos on my hand. The ones inked across my knuckles, a murder of crows. A quiet reminder of what I don’t say out loud, what I keep buried under them. Her thumb grazes the edge of them, soft and tender like she’s reading braille. I jerk slightly, because the contact feels like a jolt straight to my spine.

“Don’t,” I almost bark. “Don’t touch—.”

She doesn’t pull back. “Why not?”

“Because I’m trying to be good,” I say, and the laugh that slips out is humorless. “I promised I’d be good. Not for me, but for you.”

She traces another line of ink along my forearm until it disappears into my jacket. “You don’t look like you want to be good. Whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean.”

I don’t know where this performance between us ends tonight. I don’t know whether I’m being good because I should be, or because I’m afraid to find out what happens if I stop. Does behaving even count if every part of me is already misbehaving in my head? Does restraint really matter if I’m standing here imagining her moaning my name?

I squeeze the railing tighter just to keep my hands off her. “Natalia.”

“Yes?” she echoes in a tone to imply she’s bored, like she doesn’t know exactly what she’s doing to me.

“I know you’re fucking with me, trying to see how long before I'll crack. This isn't some game, you know?”

“Oh, Kiri. When did you become so boring? You were more fun before,” she teases.

I inhale; my breath gets caught on the uptake. “You should be careful with this whole situation, with—”

“With what?” she interrupts. Her eyes meet mine, full of challenge and fire.

“With me," I say quietly, and the truth in my voice makes her still. "Because I can only stop myself so many times before I break and give in. To you. To this.”

For a moment, she softens. Then she steps even closer.

“I never asked you to stop,” she says.

I don’t realize I’ve moved until we’re almost chest to chest, the city buzzing somewhere far below us. She tilts her chin up in that defiant, stubborn way of hers, daring me to make this mistake. So I do what any idiot with blood in his veins would do. I lean in.

I huff a disbelieving laugh. “You’re driving me insane, you know that, don’t you? I’ve been hard for like forty-eight hours straight,” I murmur, letting the alcohol talk for me with a shake of my head.

“Oh I know,” she whispers back, wearing a grin almost too wicked for a face so beautiful.

I let out a short, frustrated sigh. “Rafe’s right, you know? You should run, from me, from all of this.”

She grabs my shirt.