Page 19 of Twisted Steel
“No.I didn’t think so.”
“You say that like you believe me.”
“I do.”
I blink.“You don’t know me.”
“I know you kept working with bullets hitting concrete beside you.”
“That was adrenaline.”I brush off his words that feel strangely like praise.
“I know you ordered Jax around while he cursed at you.”
“He was being an idiot.”I roll my eyes at the stupidity of men.
“I know you’re scared and pretending anger covers it.”
My throat tightens.There are things men like him shouldn’t be allowed to see.
I turn away and head for the kitchen.“Do you want coffee?”
“No.”
“Good.I wasn’t making you any.”
I fill the kettle anyway because I need my hands occupied.Steel stays near the door, exactly where he said he would leave, except he has not left.
“You can go now,” I say.
“I’ll be outside.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Yes.”
I slam a mug onto the counter.“You can’t stand guard outside my apartment like some emotionally constipated gargoyle.”
His brow lifts a fraction.“Gargoyle?”
“Did I stutter?”
“No.”
“Then leave-leave.Not lurk-leave.”
His gaze drops to my hands.Damn it.They’re shaking.I curl them around the edge of the counter, and Steel tracks the movement.He sees everything and says almost nothing, which is a horrible combination in a man I’m trying not to want near me.
He takes one step closer, I tense, and he stops immediately.
“I won’t touch you,” he says.
My pulse stumbles.“That’s not...”
“It is,” he says, cutting me off.
I hate that my eyes sting.I hate it so fucking much I almost laugh.
The kettle begins to hiss behind me.
