Page 81 of Barbi and the Villain

“Whoa, easy there. You don’t even know what I was about to say. You’re not all that, you know?” I mutter under my breath, annoyed.

He tilts his head to the side, pursing his lips. Disbelief is written all over his maddeningly handsome face.

Damn you, Nykander! Why do you have to make my heart flutter even when I’m mad at you?

“In fact”—I clear my throat as I push my chin up—“I have had better.”

He narrows his eyes at me.

“And what is it that you have had better?”

“Oh, you know.” I shrug. “Those kisses on my neck. They were rather sloppy. I would think a man of your age would have more flair.”

“Is that so?” he asks in a grave voice.

“Yes, indeed.” I nod. “You could use more practice. Not that I’m offering. But just so you know, they were rather subpar. Guys my age do it better.”

The lie burns on my tongue, but the last thing I would want him to know is how much those sloppy kisses affected me, or the fact that I was about to let him have his way with me—well, not all the way, I still have standards—if he hadn’t messed it all up.

I’m still bitter about that Mo, whoever she is.

“Guys your age,” he repeats, unconvinced. “And you have been with many guys your age?”

“Tons,” I hurry to reply. “So many I have lost count.”

“Hmm.”

“They were all much better,” I continue, needing to convince him somehow, as if that would lessen my mortification in any way. “One did this tongue trick that had me in a puddle on the floor,” I say with a sigh.

God, I sound like the biggest player for someone who’s never held a boy’s hand before—well, except for his.

“Really? And this male wouldn’t happen to be the same as your Dark One boyfriend?”

“Of course,” I say without realizing. My eyes widen as I slap a hand over my mouth.

He smirks.

“Hey!” I get up and point at him. “You tricked me!”

“Me? When did I do that?” he asks, amused.

“I’ll have you know I am very popular in my world. Guys line up to date me. Why, you should see my social media. It’s full of hot guys sliding in my DMs.”

Well, technically, that is not a lie—or, not a full lie. My DMs are full, but it’s not hot guys. It’s creeps and incels who think sending a dick pic is the way to get a girl.

He stares intently at me.

I swallow.

He takes a step forward.

“Sliding in what?” he asks in a low, gravelly voice.

“Uhm… DMs? You wouldn’t know since you don’t have social media in your world and all that,” I add, forcing a smile.

He takes another step forward.

“There will be no sliding of anyone anywhere. Is that clear?”

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