Page 21 of Ivory's Ruin Romance

It took Ivory all of two seconds to notice the newest damage done to his knuckles, glancing over them with concern. Just when he’d managed to forget about it, too. Her gaze darted between her lap and his hands, between the television screen and back to his knuckles.

Hell, it was annoying. But what bothered him most of all was that her attention never lifted to his face. He wanted her to know he wasn’t worth her time, not to make her uncomfortable in his presence.

Now that she wouldn’t meet his gaze, he realized he missed the way she looked at him on Halloween. Like she’d hand him her whole world because she thought he could offer something better. Adrian forced his gaze away from her. He knew he didn’t have anything good to offer her. Maybe it was better this way.

“Only found two controllers, but we can make it work.” Caspian reclaimed his seat next to Nia with a fresh beer. “Who’s up first?”

“I need to watch a round. I’ve never played before,” Ivory replied.

Caspian looked over expectedly. “I’ll give it a go,” Adrian acquiesced, trying to ignore Ivory’s persistent sideways stare.

Nia passed a controller to Ivory, who then gave it to him. She hesitated as their fingers brushed, and even from the slight touch, he relished the warmth of her skin, smooth where his was rough and broken. Today her nails were painted lavender with little jeweled snowflakes on the thumb. He wondered if she’d done them herself.

The first match ended in a win for him, meaning a loss for Caspian, per usual. He handed the controller back, but after Ivory insisted she needed to watch another round, Nia took over.

As the next match started, Ivory leaned toward him and broke her silence. “Is it really that hard to take care of yourself?” She focused again on his hand and finally lifted her jade eyes to his. “Or did you just get back from defending another damsel in distress?”

That’s when he saw it—the annoyance sparking within the shadows of her pupils, challenging him to disagree.

Which he did.

“I appreciate your concern, but no maidens were involved,” he replied. “And I’d say you should see the other guy, but I don’t think the brick wall looks any worse for wear.” A little scrape like this was nothing for her to get worked up over.

Her expression looked less than amused. She might as well have handed him nails and a hammer, set up a cross in the middle of the room, and demanded he pay for a mortal sin. Still, it’d be a lie to say he didn’t like to see that fury rekindle in her eyes. So different from when she let him blow smoke in her face.

“Well, you should really get it disinfected,” she huffed.

“They’ll heal,” he replied, keeping his voice low. “It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last.”

“All the more reason to take care of it,” she retorted, unapologetic to how her stubbornness had begun to dominate the conversation. “They’ll heal better without getting infected.”

After all his wanting for her direct attention, the objection ate at his insides. No one else had noticed his scars, because his personal shit wasn’t their concern. He wasn’t about to go nursing wounds that were bound to fester later. Especially not to someone like her. Someone who cared enough to see through his facade.

Holding her stare, he met her defiance with his own. If it was that much of an issue, then he’d give her something else to gawk at. He reached between his shoulder blades and tugged the shirt off his back in one motion, wrapping it around his damaged knuckles. “I didn’t want to make a big deal about it, but if it’s too distracting for you, I’ll cover it up.”

Her eyes rounded into large saucers, jaw open. His physique wasn’t cover-model worthy, but it was nothing to be ashamed of, either. At least now her attention was off his injury, although it still fell short of his face. He didn’t know if that was better or worse.

Better, he decided, as the look in her eyes shifted from irritation to poorly masked desire. That was something he knew how to handle.

“I’ll take care of it,” he affirmed, aware of how his tone had lowered and how her eyes flicked up to his. Much better. Those beautiful deer-in-headlight eyes gave away more than she knew.

She closed her mouth, and the video game announcer declared a winner.

“Hey now—when did it become no shirt time?” Caspian asked, impervious to the room’s shift in mood.

“Keep your clothes on,” Nia hissed.

Adrian tore his eyes away from Ivory to mock Caspian. “You’re a fucking exhibitionist. No one said they wanted to see you shirtless.”

Caspian chuckled, raising an eyebrow at his fiancée. “What you don’t know won’t kill you.”

“It’s what I know that scares me,” Adrian shot back.

Nia didn’t look amused. “Caspian, if he needs a new shirt, he could borrow one of yours?”

“He needs a first aid kit,” Ivory cut in.

Caspian looked him over quizzically, then zeroed in on the pseudo-bandaged hand.

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