Page 36 of All's Fair in Love & Wrath

“Don’t tell me what to do,” I snap, harsher than I mean to, surprising both of us. Axel’s face immediately softens, but it’s replaced with something that looks a lot like pride. Was he baiting me?

“I’m not.”

“Sure sounded like it.”

“I just want to see you take care of yourself. You don’t have to go without here, your voice matters here. So, if you’re hungry, speak up.”

“Very hard to do that in a place that’s unfamiliar to me. Another place I’m burdening.”

“Sienna, you couldn’t be a burden if you tried.” His voice is soft, sweet, and genuine. But he has no basis to form that opinion, so it’s irrelevant. Ignoring him, I pick up my coffee, blowing the steam over the top and taking my first sip. It’s not as good without heavy cream, but it’s so much better than drinking it black like I have been. I think only sociopaths can drink and actually enjoy the bitter flavor of black coffee. I side-eye the man sitting next to me as he takes another sip of his.

“Do you actually like your coffee like that?”

“Like what?”

“Plain. Black.”

Axel looks down into his coffee mug, then brings it to his lips, taking a sip. I watch as he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as the liquid slides down his heavily tattooed throat.

“Yeah? I guess. Always just drank it black.” He glances at my mug, and I don’t know what comes over me, but I pick it up and hold it out for him. He takes it, his eyes locked on mine as he turns the mug in his hand, placing his lips over the spot where mine just were and tilting it back to take a sip. After he’s swallowed, the cutest smirk lifts on the right side of his mouth.

“Yours is better.”

“And that’s just with milk. Imagine it with cream,” I reply with a soft smile as I take the drink back from him. Turning, I set the mug down on the desk and gently rip off a piece of the cinnamon roll. The cinnamon mixed with the not-too-sweet icing bursts on my tongue, and I couldn’t have held back the moan if I tried. I can’t remember a time when I ate somethingthat tasted so delicious. Axel chuckles, the sound almost as good as the warm, gooey cinnamon currently melting me into a puddle.

“How is it? Good, huh?”

“Good doesn’t even begin to cover it. This is life-changing, Axel.” He looks up at me over the rim of his mug, his smile filling his face, eyes wide like he’s genuinely happy. Then he shakes his head before speaking.

“Mrs. Odette is talented, and even though she’s in her seventies, she’s not slowing down.”

“Well, thank God for that.”

We eat in peace, and it’s the most comfortable thing I’ve done in longer than I can truly remember.

Chapter Thirteen

AXEL

Music thrums through the baseboards, an old grunge band that I used to listen to frequently playing through the speakers. It’s the first clubhouse party since Rolo passed away, and everyone is tossing one back in his honor. Morgan has started to leave her bedroom and is helping work the bar with two prospects, even though she doesn’t have to.

“Heard you got a girl hiding away in your bedroom. What have you done with the Axel James we all know?” she says to me as I take a seat on one of the barstools in front of her. There are heavy dark circles under her eyes, her hair pulled back in a tight bun, her face is void of her usual makeup, but she’s here, she’s talking, and she’s trying. That’s all any of us could hope for. “She must be pretty special if she’s got you breaking all your rules.”

She’s not wrong there. I invited Sienna to come out here tonight, but she refused, looking up at me with terrified, bright blue eyes. The last few days have been much the same, but she’s eating, sleeping, and most importantly, talking with me. Ishouldn’t have asked if she wanted to come here tonight, and it was stupid of me to. She hasn’t outright told me what happened to her when she was eighteen, but from reading her statement, I know it occurred at a clubhouse party.

“She is,” is all I say in reply.

“Interesting,” Morgan hums as she fills up a beer from the keg.

“What is?”

“The change in all of you. Except for maybe Sin, we all knew he was a big, gooey mess under all that muscle and size.”

I scoff. “There’s no change in me.”

“Axel James, denial is only to prolong the inevitable. Trust me, I know. Don’t waste time while you have it. You never know when the clock stops ticking.”

“Morgan . . . I?—”