Page 140 of Nyx

"And what do I think?" she challenges with a wide grin.

"What do you need help with?" I ask, trying to deflect her attention.

"You could do far worse than a Cerberus guy," she says, not giving up.

I blink at her, not saying a word, but my lips want to turn up in a smile.

She's not wrong. They seem like just the type of guy every woman should be blessed with, but Nyx isn't mine, and I'm not at a point in my life where I could even consider the possibilities.

"The ultimate protectors," she continues. "Big on safety, and some would say possessive."

Those aren't the worst traits for a partner to have if they're because someone truly cares and they aren't used as a means of power and control.

"Some women like it, but I could never put myself in a situation like that," she says. "Just not my style."

I continue my silence, not feeding into her need to have a little gossip session.

But protectiveness lined with respect, appreciation, and thoughtfulness doesn't sound like a terrible thing, especially after the relationship I had with Graham.

"And he can't seem to take his eyes off you," she continues, her eyes once again over my shoulder.

She chuckles as if she got answers to questions without me having to even speak as I look at him.

He's speaking with another Cerberus member, but his eyes are locked on me.

I don't feel like I'm being possessed by him while he's watching me. I feel like he's keeping his word. He's multitasking, keeping his word to watch me while also speaking to someone else.

I can't let myself imagine that it's anything other than the job he was given, and it's been him with me because that's what I requested of Kincaid when he let me know about what Graham has been doing.

Knowing that Nyx is looking after me doesn't feel smothering. It feels like a warm blanket covering my skin on a chilly morning.

It's comfort and assurance.

He has my back, and there's something about that that makes me feel a little braver and protected. The weight on my chest isn't as heavy when he's around, and unfortunately, I know it's something I could easily get used to.

That is the problem. I shouldn't come to depend on him because one day this job will be over for him.

"That's Colton Matthews," Victoria says.

"He's Cerberus also?"

"Nope. He's a detective with the local police department. Married to Kincaid's niece."

"You know all the Cerberus members?" I ask, reluctantly pulling my eyes from him and back to her.

"Not personally, but I know them by sight," she says. "They all kind of stick out."

"Don't motorcycle clubs wear leather vests or something?" I ask, looking around, trying to find the men who stick out.

I can see what she means. Many people are walking around, and despite wearing regular clothes, some just seem to carry themselves differently.

They seem more attentive, more focused on what's going on around them.

"They do sometimes," she answers, handing me the end of a tablecloth so we can spread it on our table. "They don't tend to wear them at events like this. Some people in the community don't have the most positive opinions of the club."

"Did they do something wrong?"

"Never," she says as she pulls a box from a rolling cart, placing it on the table.