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His vibrant, glowing blue eyes. There’s a little extra fire in them now.
If I thought he was capable of such an emotion, I’d almost think it was…desire.
“You won’t ever have to make that choice,” he says softly. His whisper is fine grit sandpaper against my skin. “I’ll force you to do a lot of things, Piper, but never that. When it happens, it will be your choice.”
Whenit happens?
When?
I want to call him a cocky bastard and shove him away, but I seem to have lost control of my body. I’m nothing but a heartbeat now.
In my chest.
Between my legs.
The longer Timofey looks down his nose at me, the louder the beating grows.
Then, all at once, he turns and walks out of the room.
29
PIPER
I gather myself with a few deep breaths, then I follow Timofey back into the arena. That’s what the kitchen is, after all: a battleground.
When I step into the hallway, I can hear Ashley’s high-pitched, flirty laugh.
“Shit,” I mutter, breaking into a jog.
Timofey and I walk in together. Ashley is standing at the stove next to Akim, both of their hands wrapped around the same pan handle.
“It’s all in the wrist,” Akim says, brushing his finger over Ashley’s too-pale, too-skinny forearm. “More of a flick than a toss.”
Ashley bites her lower lip like she’s concentrating, but I know she’s trying to make a sexy face. “Okay. Here I go. One, two—”
On three, she and Akim shake the skillet together and flip a pancake in the air. It lands clumsily on the side of the pan and batter sprays across the stove.
Ashley slouches into Akim’s chest. “Damn it. I don’t understand. I’ve been told I have very limber wrists.”
“By whom?” Akim asks.
She looks back over her shoulder, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Ex-boyfriends.”
My eyes practically bug out of my head. Timofey makes a soft snort in the back of his throat.
I stomp around him and grab the pan out of Ashley’s hand. “You did not just say that in front of my Gram,” I hiss.
Akim turns away, muttering, “She definitely did.”
“Say what?” Gram asks.
I look over to see she is doing one of the crosswords she carries around in her purse.
“Nothing, Gram. Do you want a—” I look at what Akim and Ashley were making. “A pancake? Why are you making pancakes?"
"I make them and freeze them for quick breakfast," Akim explains, but I'm not really listening to him. As far as I'm concerned, he can disappear.
Gram nods. “Sure, I’ll have one. But you make it, Ashley. I want to taste the love in it.”
