Page 75 of Villainous Rise

“So,” I said, still not looking at him, “do your stalker-drivers report back to you about all my movements, or just the highlights?”

“I don’t need them to report to me to know what you’re doing.”

“That’s—“ I searched for the right word. Invasive? Creepy? Disturbingly hot in a way I refused to examine? “—completely inappropriate.”

Cipher’s mouth quirked up at one corner. “So you’ve mentioned.”

“And yet you keep doing it anyway.”

“Yes.”

I rubbed at the spot between my eyebrows as if that would sooth the headache forming.

I needed to apologize for last night. For throwing myself at him. For putting him in that position when I was clearly not in control of myself.

The words formed in my mind but died on my tongue. It was too early for that conversation. I hadn’t had nearly enough coffee to navigate the minefield of “Sorry I tried to seduce you while drunk.”

Besides, a traitorous part of my brain whispered, I wasn’t actually sorry.

I stared out the window, watching the city blur past.

“Why did you stop?”

“Stop what?”

“Last night.” My voice was quieter now. “You could have... we could have...”

“Fucked?” He supplied the word I’d been dancing around.

Heat bloomed across my face. “Yes.”

“You were drunk.”

“I wasn’t that drunk.”

But I had been. After Cipher left, the room had definitely tilted a bit too much. The wine on an empty stomach, the adrenaline from the attack, all of it had combined into a perfect storm of impaired judgment.

He’d been right to stop.

I cleared my throat. “Actually, I was. Drunk, I mean. Not blackout drunk, but... impaired enough. You made the right call.”

Cipher’s eyes flicked to me, surprise evident in the slight raise of his eyebrow.

“Annie Bishop admitting I was right? Should I check if hell’s frozen over?”

“Don’t get used to it,” I muttered, crossing my arms.

His lips quirked up. “Noted.”

“Besides,” I continued, unable to help myself, “it’s not like you were being entirely noble. You just wanted me sober so I couldn’t blame the alcohol afterward.”

“True.”

“That’s manipulative.”

“Strategic,” he corrected.

“Semantics.”