Page 46 of Ghosted

Alice looks away first, and fuck, that’s cute too. Not soft and sweet. More like watching someone touch a hot stove and get mad at the stove for doing its job.

I shouldn’t like it.

Unfortunately, I’ve never been known for making choices that keep people alive.

“You should be careful with him,” I say.

Her mouth flattens. “There’s the warning.”

“Not for you.”

“For who?”

“For him.”

I lean forward, elbows on the table, close enough that she has to decide whether to move back. She doesn’t. Of course she doesn’t, because apparently Alice Aster handles danger by insulting it until it either leaves or proves her right.

“Jagger likes things that look breakable and prove they aren’t,” I tell her. “He gets attached to damage. Makes him feel useful.”

“I’m not damaged.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

“You implied it.”

“No.” I smile. “I implied my brother has a type.”

Alice’s gaze stays on mine. “And what do you like?”

Wrong question.

Best question.

I let the silence sit for a second because she should have time to regret asking. She doesn’t look like she does, which is unfortunate for both of us.

“What do I like?” I ask.

“That’s what I said.”

I stand slowly and walk around the table. Alice tracks me with her eyes but doesn’t move, even when I stop beside her chair and look down at the open anatomy book.

Rib cage. Sternum. Lungs. Heart.

Very subtle, Alice.

“I like finding out where people keep the part they don’t want touched,” I say. “Then I touch it.”

“That sounds exhausting.”

“It’s actually very relaxing.”

“For you.”

“Obviously.”

She turns in her chair to face me properly, putting her knee close to my leg without touching. Her hand stays on the camera. The other rests near the edge of the book, fingers spread over the page like she can cover the bones from me.

I point at the diagram. “Is that why you like this stuff?”