Page 58 of Glutton for Punishment

If she had any sense of the feelings that were forming on my end before the bond activated. All those moments at the academy that started as intrigue, then friendship, then pulled into something more.

Did she start to feel it too? Or was it just me?

My jaw tightens slightly. Probably just me.

She had a bond to Atticus. Even if it wasn’t complete. She probably only ever saw us as friends. I have to take this slowly.

Even if everything in me is already too far gone.

I really try to remind myself of that… but my hand moves anyway and tangles into her hair at the base of her neck, anchoring her closer for just a second longer.

I tilt my head slightly and press a soft kiss to the side of her mouth.

I know I’m going to feel that on my lips for hours.

I drop my hand. “Goodnight, Arwen,” I say, turning and walking away before I can change my mind.

Chapter 18

Arwen

Maddox’s arm slips around my waist, his fingers pressing just above my hip bone with a casual weight that suggests he’s done this a thousand times before. Like this is our routine.

My mind is still snagged on the suit. He arrived at my door in something cut from a material so dark it drank the light, tailored so it seemed to carve his silhouette out of the air. The jacket hugs the width of his shoulders without a crease; the trousers in a clean, uninterrupted line. It doesn’t tame him. If anything, it hones him—the danger in his posture more deliberate.

And it’s distracting.

Annoyingly so.

I feel something cool and metallic slide against my lower back before my mouth has time to catch up to my brain. The solid weight of it tucked beneath the waistband of my pants as my spine goes rigid.

“A gun,” Maddox says quietly, already adjusting the back of my jacket like this is just another part of getting dressed for dinner.

“Since you already know how to use it.” He smirks.

“This doesn’t exactly scream normal relationship.” I say, getting used to the bulk feeling in the back of my jeans.

His face jerks towards mine before I realize my mistake… I said 'relationship‘.’

We haven’t even discussed the bond, let alone a full-blown relationship. Shut up Arwen. Change the subject.

“I hope I’m dressed okay.” Glancing down at my jeans, sparkly top, and black jacket, I note I might be underdressed. It’s… nice. Just not black-tie, power-player, eat-the-weak kind of nice. I’ve never dressed that kind of nice.

Maddox walks behind me so I can see him in the mirror.

“I didn’t know you owned any other clothes outside of ripped jeans and tight shirts that showcase your ass—” I choke, clapping a hand over my mouth. “—abs. I mean abs.”

What the hell is with you today, Arwen? We’re going to dinner with his deranged family.

Maddox doesn’t even flinch. He just slides his hands into his pockets, a slow, smug grin pulling at his mouth like he’s filing that away for later.

“You look great,” he says, voice steady. “Strong. Like you’re not trying too hard.”

I look back to the mirror... maybe he has a point.

“Good,” I mutter, straightening my jacket.

His gaze holds for a heartbeat too long, dark eyes tracing the line of my hip where my jacket pulls taut, then drifting up to the neckline of my sparkly top. A flush creeps up my neck, warm and undeniable, as his attention lingers. I watch his throat work—a slight, almost imperceptible swallow—before he blinks, breaking the spell. He clears his throat and turns toward the door, the line of his shoulders rigid.