Page 5 of These Wicked Hearts

“Yeah, well.” His dark eyes burn into me. “Maybe someone should teach you not to be so spoiled.”

Heat curls low in my stomach when he sighs. It’s long and deliberate, like just the weight of that sigh took all his energy.

“If I get down, will you drop it?” He watches me, really watches me. His eyes narrow like he’s trying to decide if I’m worth the trouble or if he wants to topple forward and end this conversation for good. Then he shakes his head and hops down, landing with a thud on the rooftop. “Better?”

I nod, folding my arms a little tighter around my chest. “Yeah. Thank you.”

Silence settles in thick and awkward. Somewhere below, the dull roar of nightlife sounds beneath us. I drag my shoe against the pavement tracing a half circle repeatedly.

“So . . . what’s your name?”

He lets out a short breath through his nose, something between a laugh and a groan. Still, he doesn’t make a move to leave me up here alone. “You’re annoying.”

“You mean intriguing. I think you’re intrigued.” I grin.

“I think I’m irritated.”

“Mm.” I tilt my head, studying him right back. “Can I tell you a secret?”

His eyes flick away for a moment then back to me. “I’ve known you for five seconds and I already know you’re just going to tell me anyway.”

I bite back a smile, thinking about what I want to say. The words press at the back of my throat while I pick at a fraying thread on my hoodie.

“I’m—” My voice catches. I swallow and try again. “I’m really sad.” His gaze sharpens instantly like I’ve flipped some switch. “And I don’t want to be alone right now.”

I feel the words bunch in my chest. It’s too much. I clamp my mouth shut, my teeth biting into the inside of my cheek until the sting steadies me. My thoughts spiral, but I don’t want to let anxiety stop me. I want to reach for things deep inside and let someone see me. The real me. Even if it’s this mildly annoyed stranger.

I exhale again.

“I’m just really sad right now. I’m sorry to bother you.”

He doesn’t answer right away. All he does is look at me.

“What do you have to be sad about?”

I let out a quiet breath. My eyes drop to scuff the pavement between us. “Everything. I came up here for some air, but then I saw you and made the decision to bother you.”

He blinks. “Lucky me.”

“Do you live here?”

“No,” he deadpans. “I just climb random buildings for fun.”

“Are you Spider-Man?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “No.”

“Shame. That’d be cool. I love Spider-Man.” I move my arm toward him. “There, got him tattooed right there, swinging across The Daily Bugle.”

“The Daily what—” He shakes his head then really looks at my arm. “Are those all superheroes?” I nod. “You have a sleeve of superheroes?”

“Two sleeves. This is the Marvel side, this is DC. I have a special spot down here for the X-Men.” I point to my forearm. “That’s my boy Gambit and my girl Psylocke. Fuck she’s beautiful. I also love Rogue as well.”

“I don’t understand any of what you just said.”

“I think out of all the Marvel heroes I’d like to be Thor. I know he’s technically a god, but like, how cool is that shit, right? First, bitchin cape. And sexy as hell. I prefer long-haired Thor, even though that might be controversial. And he can fly. Like, he’s literally a god. And the hammer. Fuck, don’t get me started on the hammer.”

“Is the hammer a euphemism for his dick?” He quirks a brow.