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“For you, Luna.” My finger drags across the top of her chest, and she breaks out with little pebbles across her skin.
She takes a step back, distancing herself. Her forehead crinkles with a slight frown before she asks, “Want to see who can get him first?”
The idea is tempting. I want to. But that would mean having her leave my sight.
“Nope. I’m glued to you at all times.”
“Your loss.” She huffs defeatedly.
“I like to think of it as my gain.”
“Now that you know I’m safe, put my door back and stand outside. I have business to attend to.”
I’ll let her think she’s getting her own way. I enjoy surprising her. I go back to her door and screw the hinges back in before I close it—with me still on the inside.
I look over my shoulder. She has her nose buried in a book with some half-naked guy on the cover. I smile to myself as I fix the locks on the door while she ignores me.
“All done,” I say, turning around.
“You may leave,” she replies absently while shooing me with one hand. Her other hand keeps the book in front of her nose, but at this angle I see her eyes are staying in one place on the page. I still have her attention, and that pleases me to no end.
I flop over the end of her bed, placing my hands behind my head. Her feet wiggle under my torso as she tries to escape my weight.
“Can’t you ignore me like you’ve done in the past?” She sounds annoyed.
“Trust me—you were never ignored,” I comment. She was always in my line of sight, even when we didn’t speak. I couldn’t let a girl like her go cold turkey. It took a lot of time and effort to make her believe I dropped her.
Chapter 8
Luna
Fin’sscenthasn’tchangedsince I’ve known him. That familiar spicy, crisp aroma wafts its way toward me. It clings to my heart. I once thought it was the best smell ever. I wanted to be in his presence, because it calmed me. It did unnatural things to my heart.
Now, it makes my stomach twist. I don’t trust Fin O’Connor. He’s known to work alone. He only looks out for himself. Being anywhere near Fin is bad karma for the average person.
At first, I felt bad about the rumors that circulated about him and his family. His mother had died giving birth to his sister. Then his dad killed his sister, and Fin killed him. People took that as a hex and stayed clear.
I close my eyes, sinking my head deeper into the hard pillow. I haven’t allowed myself to think about his sister since that day. I should have kept my mouth shut and never included her in my revenge. The guilt I keep sits heavy on my chest.
“I have a no-gun rule in the bedroom,” his deep voice cuts through my thoughts. The bed lifts from him standing, and I can hear him touching my gun.
“What the hell are you doing?” My feet swing over the bed, my anger overriding everything else I’m feeling, and I latch onto it.
My hand goes to take the gun from his hands, but he moves a moment sooner, and my fingers wrap around his forearm. A current buzzes through him to me, his eyes drawing to mine. We stand there, eyes connected, not moving.
His lips twist into a crooked smile, daring me to say something. I’m flooded with all the memories we made long ago. He was my first real friend. I have trust issues, and yet somehow we fit. Our families should have never allowed us to be friends—being rivals and all. But we worked. Then he smashed my trust into tiny pieces.
“There’s a good chance we’ll be murdered in our sleep if those guns are moved from this room,” I tell him.
He has an arrogant look on his face, like he doesn’t believe it. I move my body around to his front and snatch the gun from him. I expect a bullet to fly through the window at any time; it’s why I moved the bed away from it. Not that Fin noticed, because he’s not a real bodyguard. He doesn’t think about others, only himself.
“I thoughtyouwere doing the murdering?” He tilts his head, eyeing me. For what seems like the first time, he looks around the room, taking notice.
I’m in this by myself, even with him here. He’ll only drag me down further. I’m going to have to disappear on him before he gets us both killed.
I’m in the process of placing my precious gun under my pillow when his warm fingers brush against my midriff and hold on to the Kevlar vest I had specially made to fit under my crop top.
“Why are you wearing one of these?” The back of his knuckle is hot against my skin. It moves slightly back and forth while holding onto my vest.
