Page 21 of Immortal Burden

I wasn’t above feeling a little startlement either as I took him in clad only in a pair of black leather pants. His cut chest and those chiseled abs of his were on display in all their glory. He was freshly showered, the appetizing scent of his citrus shower products wafting over me.

“Mia,” he greeted tightly, shoving a hand through his sexily mussed up hair and dispelling some of the extra moisture. “Last person I expected to show up at my door,” he added with a distinct bite.

“I was in the neighborhood.”

He gave me a withering look. “Sure you were. Had a Guardian house call out here in the middle of nowhere, huh?” He rolled his eyes, then stepped aside and let me in.

I walked into his living room as he closed the door behind me.

“So, what’s up?” he asked as he brushed past me and snatched up one of the two shirts laid out on the couch, studying it.

“I came to see how you were doing.”

“How I’m doing?” he murmured to himself distractedly, focusing on his shirt. He frowned, then snatched up the other one, then turned fully to me. “Which one?” he asked, gesturing between them. “Black or silver?”

Unlike his go-to white silk shirt, both of these had a metallic look to them.

“Changing up your look, are you?”

“I’m going out.”

“Out?”

“Yeah, you know, a night out? Fun?”

I tensed. “Where?”

He stilled, some sort of realization playing out on his features.

He shook his head in the next moment. “I see. You didn’t come here to check on me out of the goodness of your heart or for sentimentality’s sake. You came here to see if I was in a bad headspace, one that could have me doing something reckless and dangerous, something that would require Guardian action to be taken against me. You think I could be a threat.” He tutted. “Unbelievable.”

“I came here because I care, Ry. There’s no ulterior motive.”

“Come on.”

“You are known for your reckless tendencies, yes, but I would never, under any circumstances, consider you a liability or even a threat.” I stepped up to him and fondled the silver shirt. “This one. Black on black doesn’t do your personality justice. This is much more fun, as you’re going for with your night out.”

His expression softened. “Thanks.”

As he tossed the other one back on the couch and slipped the silver one on, I told him, “You might want to add a belt into the mix. Those pants are riding rather low.” So low that I could see that he wasn’t wearing any underwear.

He smirked. “I know.”

Lovely. “Right, okay then.” I studied him closely, his demeanor, everything. “It seems my concerns were unfounded.”

“Yep, I’m all good.”

“You’re sure? There’s nothing you wish to talk about, to get off your chest?”

“Why? I can’t be happy?”

“No, because the way you were at the Maven Coven just a couple of days ago painted a very different picture of your state of wellbeing.”

He shrugged. “I was drunk.” He twirled a finger as if just recalling something. “Right, and I was also slightly under the influence of faerie dust. Ella had a thing for adding it into our bedroom play. It enhances every little thing, every sensation and makes for one hell of an explosive—”

“I get it, thanks.”

“Well, it can also unbalance your mood when it’s wearing off.”

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