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Her head tilts in confusion at the same time I reach out to grab the calf of her leg to tug her body to me. Blue’s upper body falls back, and I grip down on her hips to hold her in place.
“What would happen if I tried to kiss you right now?”
Her eyes narrow. “I’d scream.”
A thought pierces the haze of anger in my head, and I laugh softly while raising her ankle to my shoulder. She doesn’t resist or try to pull away. Blue just keeps staring at me with those impossible violet eyes.
“And you think your boyfriend would come running to save you? Hate to tell you, but he won’t be showing up again for another half hour.”
Her glare intensifies. “Bet you paid a fortune for that?”
How the hell does she make me laugh when the nightmares are still assaulting me?
“Too much, if I’m being honest. But who’s counting?”
Turning my head, I place a gentle kiss on her calf before she can answer me. I open my mouth then scrape her calf with my teeth on a warning. The control it takes me not to bite down is staggering.
As much as I can’t stand her, I want her.
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
Surprised by her response, I look across her body to lock eyes with hers.
Silence beats between us.
One second.
Two…
“Then what is he?”
Blue attempts to tug her leg away, but my hand clamps down. Not tight enough to hurt her but just enough to keep her in place.
“A means to an end,” she answers on a small growl as she attempts to tug away again.
Letting her go, I stay in place as she scoots away.
It’s interesting that she doesn’t stand up and run for one of the buttons to call security. Instead, she huffs in frustration and shifts her body to sit up again. Her angel wings are caught beneath her, making the effort more of a struggle than it should be.
We’re back at eye level, the anger bleeding out of me as curiosity rushes in to fill it.
“Explain.”
Blue shakes her head, her expression softening until all I see in her is regret. She’s hiding something, just like me. My anger subsides even more to see it.
Her voice is so soft in response that what she says doesn’t make me angry again. It makes me want to hold her down and demand answers.
“We all have our scars, Champ. Some of us have more than others. And some are so well hidden that we forget we have them.”
She’s not wrong about that. My hidden scars are still tapping at the fringes of my thoughts, quieter than before but still present and persistent.
My body hitting the floor.
Ezra screaming.
The goddamned laughter that never seems to stop.
I clench my eyes shut as if that will dispel them.
