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She blinks with the saddest eyes imaginable. “I…didn’t know.”
Though the words are different, the sentiment is the same. An apology. An apology for actions caused by my mistake.
“There’s no way you could. Roman is highly skilled in manipulation. I’m just…”
Lucky. I’m fucking lucky that she’s still here.
I give her cheek a pat and scrub my face. “I’m going to pull his spine through his nose one of these days.”
“Please,pleasecan I watch,” Mayhem says with a laugh. “That’d be better than porn.”
“The fuck you doing watching porn, anyway? There’s literally a se—”
I clear my throat loudly, staring daggers at him.
“Thank you, Lucy.” I let my hand fall back to my lap again, and wrap my other arm around her shoulder, pulling her practically into my lap.
I love how she melts against me, reveling in my desperation.
“That Damian fuckterd is gonna be a problem. I can feel it in my boner.” Mayhem stabs a random bagel, trying his best to spear it to the table with a plastic knife.
Murder nods. “Yeah.”
I exhale loudly. “Something still feels off about the whole thing. Roman’s driver lets you out, knowing good and well he’s supposed to deliver you to one of Roman’s apartments…”
“Yep.”
“Mmhmm.”
“...all to be in bed,” I continue, “with Damian. Why risk his life that way?”
The room is quiet, each of us lost in thought. Suddenly, a bite of bagel touches my lip, and I dart my attention back to a rapidly blushing Lucy.
She’s feeding me. I—
There are too many emotions at war inside me. It’s such a caring action. So intimate it’s almost painful. In fact, I can’t remember a time anyone’s ever done this. I want Mayhem and Murder to leave, so I can sit at her feet and soak up her attention. So I can carry her back to the bedroom, bury myself inside her and never let her go.
So I can tell her I’ve fallen in love.
But reality—my reality—is screaming in our faces, and just as I suspected, I’m forced to choose between doing what I want and doing what I have to.
I slowly take the offered bite, hooking it in with my tongue before kissing her fingertips.
Leaning close, I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, and whisper, “Thank you, Firefly.”
She curls her ear toward her shoulder, barely masking the squeal.
“Gawd, get a room, you two.”
“We are literally in their room, numbnuts.”
“You know,” Mayhem gestures with the knife at Murder, “I bet all your pent up aggression comes from being the dumber brother.”
Murder barks a hearty laugh, leaning back with his arms crossed. “Dumber. Is that right? You’re the one who had to askmeif Chuck was connected to—”
“That’s it,” I stand, planting my palms on the table. Everyone, including Lucy, jumps in shock.
“Sorry, it’s his fault,” Mayhem mutters like a petulant child.
