Yeah, no, that didn’t send a chill down my spine at all.
I set my spoon down.“Do you guys do this often?Bring random strangers home and then guard them like they’re about to be snatched by the boogeyman?”
“No,” Prime said simply.“Just you.”
My breath hitched.
He looked away like the admission meant nothing.Like he didn’t notice how close he was standing.How small the kitchen suddenly felt.How much hotter the air was getting.
I didn’t comment.I didn’t trust my voice.
Instead, I slid the cereal bowl away and folded my arms across my chest.“So what now?Do I sit in that room until the killer gets bored?”
“No,” Prime said.“You stick with me.”
“I don’t think that’s in my job description,” I muttered.
“You don’t have a job anymore,” he said.“You have a survival plan.”
“That’s dark.”
“That’s the truth.”
I stared at him.Really stared at him.
The leather cut.
The tense shoulders.
The hair that looked like he’d pushed his hands through it a hundred times overnight.
The dark blue eyes that looked carved out of steel.
He was terrifying.
And for reasons I didn’t understand, that made him weirdly comforting too.
I blew out a shaky breath.“Look, I know you think I’m fragile—”
“I don’t,” he interrupted.
I blinked.“You don’t?”
“I think you’re scared,” he said.“And you should be.But you’re not fragile.”
Heat crept up the back of my neck.
He stepped closer.Not enough to touch, but close enough that the heat coming off him reached me.
“I went to that store,” he said quietly.“I saw how you looked at me when I walked in.Like you were ready to throw a can of soup at my head if I tried anything.”
“I considered it,” I muttered.
He smirked.“Exactly my point.Fragile people don’t look at a full-patch biker like he’s a problem to solve.”
I swallowed hard.“Okay,” I said slowly, “so I’m not fragile.Great.That’s one thing I can put on my résumé the next time someone tries to murder me.”
Prime didn’t smile, but something in his eyes softened for half a second.One heartbeat.If I’d blinked, I would’ve missed it.
