Page 86 of Sin

I swallowed the emotion climbing up my throat and nodded. “I’m sorry too, London. I know it doesn’t fix things, but I hope you know if I could go back, I’d do things differently. I never meant to cause harm to you and your family.”

His thumb stroked gently over the side of my hand. “I know. I’ve always known that.” He sighed and straightened from the wall. He didn’t release my hand. “I think I’ve had enough socializing for one evening. What do you say we ditch and head back home?”

Home. I didn’t think he even realized how he’d phrased it. Like his home was mine too.

Nodding, I sent him a hesitant smile. “Please.”

He slipped his arm around me, and I pulled the napkin from my pocket. With a calming breath, I unwrapped it and took a bite.

And I cried.

Chapter Eighteen

Never again

“Come on, sleepyhead,” London said, wrapping an arm around my middle to carry some of my weight as we stumbled up the stairs inside his house.

We’d left Angela’s after wishing everyone goodbye, and our large group had piled into Charlie’s truck. But I must have fallen asleep sometime on the drive home because I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten inside London’s home. Had he carried me here?

Eva and Mare weren’t with us, and I vaguely wondered where they’d gone as London paused in front of a painting in the middle of the hallway. I was about to ask why we’d stopped when London placed his free hand on the canvas.

He peeked at me, almost shyly, as the canvas’s image shifted revealing an electronic keypad. “I want to share something with you. If you’re up for it?”

Numbly, I nodded, and he smiled before giving the keypad his attention. He typed out a combination, and immediately a cranking noise sounded behind it.

My mouth dropped open as the wall sunk into the floor, revealing a hidden door with another electronic keypad. London stepped up to it, letting it scan his eyes and palm before entering a password. There was a soft beep, and then the door swung open.

He didn’t say anything, simply crossed his arms as he smirked at me gawking.

“Is this… Is this your lair?” I asked, itching to see inside. With the lights off, I couldn’t see past the doorway.

Rolling his eyes, London gestured for me to enter with a sweep of his hand. “I wouldn’t call it a lair. It’s just a hidden room in my house where I keep all of my valuables and escape to when I want to hide from people.”

I blinked at him. “So, like a lair.”

He sighed and grabbed me by the arm to haul me into the dark room. “It’s not a lair.”

And then he switched on the light.

It was totally a lair.

Electronics buzzed from the corners of the room, some of the screens displaying security feed while others appeared to be running some sort of code. The room was a lot larger than I would have guessed, maybe thirty by thirty feet. Glass shelves lined the walls. Artwork, sculptures, vases, and jeweled trinkets were splayed out across the surfaces, illuminated by installed LEDs beneath the shelves. A few display cases held comics I could only guess were worth a fortune, and I bet he held onto them when he sold his comic store a year ago. From somewhere in the room, I made out the staticky sound of a police radio as an officer asked for backup.

“Does Bennett know about your lair?” I asked in awe, walking deeper inside.

London snorted and typed out a code on a keypad by the door. The door closed quietly, sealing us inside. “It’s not a… You know what? Call it whatever you want. And, no, of course he doesn’t. If he knew about this place, he’d probably force me to hang his phallus painting in here. It’s bad enough I have to display it in my entryway. But this room is sacred. It’s my… safe space.” He wouldn’t meet my gaze. “I’ve never told anyone about this room. Not a single person… until you.”

My heart thundered at the underlying meaning behind his words. This was London showing he still, on some level, trusted me, and there wasn’t a chance in hell I would lose that trust.

And I couldn’t help myself then. Slowly, I cupped his cheek. His breath hitched as he looked into my eyes. So many emotions swam in their depths—uncertainty, longing, fear… love. I watched as each one sank and dissipated until he was retreating within himself. I dropped my hand in disappointment. But I’d told him he could set the pace, and I’d meant it.

“Hold up,” I said, my lips twitching as I remembered what he’d said. “You said his… phallus painting? Are you saying Bennett painted you a picture of his dick?”

London looked anything but amused. “No, not his dick. I think it was supposed to be a tree.” He rolled his eyes when I couldn’t hold back my laughter then. “Oh, shut up.”

My cheeks hurt from how wide I was smiling, and I snickered. “Where is this masterpiece then?”

“In the back of the cupboard with the cheese graters.”

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