A smile quirks the corner of his mouth for a moment. “You’d have to ask Red, over there.”
In less than a heartbeat, I’m on my feet. I barely save my coffee from sloshing out of the mug. “Brexley, do you want some coffee? You look like you could use some. I’ll make some more.” I practically run to the kitchenette and pull out the bag of grounds.
“Why don’t you come all the way in?” Goldie says, a cheeky dare in her tone. “Cinder and I don’t bite.”
I barely catch the hot glance Brexley sends my way.
“I do,” he says.
Oh. My. Fae lords. He did not just say that.
Still, he crosses to my reading chair and sits on the edge, first pushing up the sleeves of his sweater before resting his forearms on his thighs. It reminds me of a crash position. While Goldie reclaims her spot by Cinder.
I pause and close my eyes. Here it comes . . .
“Where are you from, Brexley?”
“Canada.”
“Where in Canada?”
“Jasper.”
“How did you get those scars?”
She did not just ask that.
“A fight I didn’t win. That was the last fight I didn’t win.”
He seems somewhat comfortable answering that one, but I suppose with massive scars like that, he gets asked the question fairly often.
“How did you meet Red?”
Brexley pauses. Oh crap, I did not prepare him for this interrogation, but I figured we’d have more time.
Still, he doesn’t take too long to respond. “Red mistook me for someone else. So I played along for a little while, until she realized I wasn’t who she thought I was.”
I turn off the faucet from filling the coffee pot with water. The urge to laugh bubbles up despite my anxiety.
As if sensing my reaction, Brexley’s eyes flick to me, emanating a smoldering heat in my direction that makes me want to grip the counter and cross my legs.
He’s just doing it for show, Red, calm your damn self.
Still looking at me with blatant intensity, his lips twist at one corner, an almost smile. “It’s become our little joke, and now we are inseparable.”
Cinder asked the question this time. “Who did she think you were?”
“Do you all attend Boston University?” Brexley redirects the conversation like a pro, but I don’t know how long he’ll put off Goldie.
My friends nod. Goldie says, “I’m majoring in business, and Cinder is majoring in art with a minor in philosophy.” She barrels ahead, taking control of the conversation again. “I didn’t know any Weres live this far south.”
He doesn’t answer. I can almost feel the room cool several degrees.
“Does your pack live near here?”
A dark cloud rolls into the room with her question.
“No.” His tone in the one word clearly a warning not to press.
