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“We know there have been. Your shows weren’t much different to ours, you know, aside from your ‘disappearing’ acts and the fact the sole purpose of Patience was to traffic drugs, women, weapons, children, and organs…”
I run my tongue over my lips, unsure how to answer him. Do I give honesty and shut him up, or should I play with him and feed him a lie? A well-dished lie keeps them hungry.
I cross my legs at my knees and rest back against the sofa, hiding my mouth behind my cards but keeping my eyes purely on his. “I don’t think anyone is ready for me to answer that question, soldier. So—” I lean forward with a smile. “Who’s going to teach me how to play this game?” Distraction and truth, the two ingredients to an answer you don’t want to say.
Eli leans into me. “Have you ever played any card game?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Then she shouldn’t play this one,” Kyrin finally speaks, and the depth of his tone rolls through my body. He watches me carefully, unmoving. “Lilith will sit this out.”
There’s an awkward silence that spills among all four of us, but I shrug, tossing my cards onto the table. “I’m happy to watch anyway.”
After five minutes of them playing whatever their little game is, my mouth starts to feel like I’ve sucked on cotton balls for an hour straight and there’s an emptiness in my gut that I need to fill. I smoked a little too much. Shuffling up from the sofa, I straggle myself into the kitchen with a mission. I find the pantry easy, thank God. Among it being fully stocked, I grab a bag of Hot Cheetos. I need something cold in my mouth. Not water. Not yet, at least. Something creamy—“Aha!” Snatching a tub of Greek yogurt from the well-organized shelf, I carry both items to the kitchen counter while popping off the lid to the yogurt.
“You’re not going to question why I told Keaton that you’re not allowed to play?” Kyrin asks from where the lounge and kitchen meet. It’s not big enough for the others to not hear us, but it’s far enough away for it to feel intimate.
I bat my lashes at him while sucking yogurt off my middle finger. “No.”
Kyrin is dangerous. Being around him is like expecting a walk alongside a beautiful beach with a setting sunset in the background, only to find out those aren’t shells in the sand. They’re mines, and that setting sunset is more like the raining blood of his victims. I’ve noticed his wardrobe is vastly different to Eli’s. Mainly consisting of designer jeans, simple shirts, hoodies, and biker boots. Simple yet achingly roguish. There’s an archaic arrogance that clings to him that can never be replicated, and it’s beginning to taste a lot like my next big mistake.
I dip a single Cheeto into the yogurt. “Why? Should I?”
He does nothing to hide the way his eyes bounce back and forth between my mouth, the Cheetos packet, and then to the yogurt. “That’s disgusting, just sayin’. Also, Keaton is gonna be pissed if there are crumbs in his yogurt.”
I scoop another, biting loudly before swiping the corner of my lips with my thumb. “Have you tried it?”
Kyrin glares at me with a flat expression before sipping on his vodka. “No, and I’m not interested.”
I push up from my chair, wanting more of the heat that’s caressing itself against my exposed flesh any time he’s near. The closer I get, it’s like the effects of the marijuana become stronger. It’s not until I’m toe to toe with him that I realize how bold I’m feeling. Bold enough to shoot the butterflies that always take flight in my gut whenever he’s around. I reach up and he tenses. I pause for a second, wondering whether I should continue. Not long ago, I didn’t like people touching me. I should respect that flinch and take it for what it is. I choose to ignore him since he interrupted my snackfest and hasn’t pulled away. As soon as my palm is against his chest, all of that warmth I crave turns into a burning inferno of flames that is spreading rampantly through my veins.
“You’re so pretty.”
“You’re high,” he murmurs, but his brows tug into the center of his forehead and his lip twitches up half playfully.
I sigh, running the tip of my finger down the center of his chest. “And?”
I watch the exact moment he throws up whatever defense he accidentally allowed me to peep through. His pupils dilate and his shoulders lock straight. “You think because you sucked my dick that I want you?”
I roll my lips between my teeth to stifle a laugh. Men are so amusing to me. “Oh, you think that bothers me?” I lean up on my tippy-toes until my lips skim his. “I’ve been told worse.”
