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"Only with you, darling."

My lips part, but I'm not sure if it's because of what he's just admitted or it's the fact that he's the first man to call me 'darling'.

He-Man, my heart starts chanting again, and I don't even realize I've silently mouthed this until I see his gaze focus on my lips.

"Did you just say...He-Man?"

Shit.

"You can read lips?"

"Don't you?"

"I...do." My voice trails off when I realize my mistake. Shit. I shouldn't have admitted that, should I? When people who know of me once found out I've picked up sewing as a hobby, they were all convinced it's so I can sew a person's lips shut, literally. When those same people heard that I signed up for an online baking course, they also started freaking out, thinking I was about to incinerate anyone who had bad blood with my family.

When people who know of me find out I have this skill or that, they automatically assume it's for killing them.

But this guy...

"I thought you'd say that."

His eyes even twinkle as he speaks.

"It's a useful skill for people like us, isn't it?"

Why do those words sound sensible when it's Thomas who says them...but weird when I hear it from him?

I've seen this man occasionally pop up on my niece's Instagram feed, and his eyes continue to twinkle even in photos. They just twinkle and twinkle and twinkle, and surely that's a sign that someone like me who personifies darkness...isn't the perfect match for someone who twinkles like a tinsel—-

Shame on you, Kay.

Brenda's ghost floats out of nowhere to haunt my judgmental brain, and I feel instantly remorseful for causing my sister to turn over in her grave.

Shame on me, indeed.

I've been so focused on the image this guy is projecting with his twinkling eyes and party-packed schedule, that I've failed to realize what he's doing all this time is one of the oldest tricks in the book.

The best way not to be seen is to hide in plain sight, and that's exactly what he did ever since swapping his FBI badge for a membership card with the rich and famous.

I'm sorry, Brenda.

For all I know, it's my dead sister who's sent a bee flying into Thomas' bonnet, and if even Brenda herself believes this man is my perfect match, then...

Chapter Four

Uniformed train staff had entered the dining car earlier to serve us our pre-booked meals, and it was over waffles and avocado shakes that I've told him the truth about myself.

'I make life decisions based on fiction' is the gist of it, but instead of calling 911 to have me taken away in a straitjacket—-

"Is that why you said 'He-Man' earlier?"

He's not only taking everything by stride, but he even sounds serious when asking me about 'He-Man'.

"Because his double life as prince and Master of the Universe reminds you of my work with Strakh?"

And now he's even low-key flexing his knowledge of the character?

"In a nutshell, yes, but..."

I'm honestly impressed, but I'm also starting to feel confused. People tend to freak out when they learn about my coping technique. I think it's because most of them assume I only have to watch a couple of minutes or Saw or The Purge, and I'm likely to go on a killing spree at any moment.

My blind date, on the other hand...

"Did you really get what I was saying earlier?" I only want to be sure there are no misunderstandings between us.

"You were basically saying that you use works of fiction - or snapshots, as you call them - as a point of reference for navigating emotionally charged and morally complex situations that you lack the necessary empathy to properly process. Did I get it right?"

"Uh..." I'm even more confused this time. "Why are you suddenly talking like a shrink?"

"Was I?"

"Yes. You were." And I don't see what purpose it would serve except to—-

My eyes widen.

"Were you trying to sound like someone from Psychology Today—-to avoid hurting my feelings?"

"Possibly?"

I roll my eyes, he grins at me, and I think...this is us flirting?

"Why would you even bother?" It's unexpectedly sweet, especially for a party boy moonlighting as a vigilante like him, but also ridiculously misguided. "I literally just told you earlier I'm emotionally challenged—-"

"I know."

"Then why try to spare my feelings?"

"Why indeed?" He rubs his jaw pensively, and the word 'sexy' pops in my mind for the first time in my life. "I guess it's because I like you?"

He...likes me?

I can't help looking at him suspiciously, and his lips twitch. "Do you know how you're looking at me right now?"

"Like I can't understand you?" Because it's true.

"Like you can't make up your mind whether you prefer me alive or dead."

The thought did cross my mind, since I am what I am, but I don't think he needs to know that.

"Obviously not a good thing no matter how you look at it," he continues, "but on the other hand..."

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