Page 25 of Riot

Rolling my eyes, I walk over and sit on the sofa, pulling my legs under me and tugging the shirt over them as I look around the room nervously. I don’t know why I’m suddenly so anxious, but I feel like I’ve been stripped of my armor. I’m makeup free, my hair is unbound and slightly wavy from the style I had it in, and I’m wearing nothing but a cheap band shirt.

I’m not the untouchable ice queen, and it’s clear he loves that. He won’t stop smiling as he sits far too close on the couch.

“Keep watching me like that and I’ll kick you out,” I snap.

“I’ll sleep outside the door.” He grins, and I glare, feeling annoyed.

Kage unnerves me; he always has. I never know how to act or where I stand with him. He unbalances me, and I hate it.

He sees my tension and sighs sadly.

“Relax, Fallon,” he murmurs, rubbing my shoulder where his arm is stretched across the back of the sofa. His head is tilted, and his dark eyes are locked on me. “I just want to be here with you. I’ll even sleep on the floor if that makes you comfortable. Just let me stay. I missed you.”

“You don’t know me well enough to miss me.”

“Then let me know you. Ask me anything, and I’ll do the same to you.”

I look away, but he ignores my silence and surges forward.

“Favorite place you’ve traveled?”

I look at him, seeing his determination, and I know he won’t give up until he has an answer, so I take a deep breath and reply, “Probably Italy.”

“I loved Italy. We should go sometime. Your turn.” I stare, and he rolls his eyes. “Okay, favorite food?”

“Cheap pizza,” I admit.

He laughs. “I love you. Mine’s cheap burgers. Okay, what’s your dream car? I saw your collection. It was big.”

I shrug, glancing away.

“Come on, you must have a dream car,” he prompts, practically begging me to carry on this game. He doesn’t know what he’s asking, but it’s a stark reminder of my past and just how different we are.

“If I want something, I just buy it,” I say coldly.

“Fuck, that’s so sexy.” He moves closer. “There isn’t something you can’t buy?” I hesitate, and he grins, finding my weakness. “There is. Tell me.”

“1964 Ferrari 250 LM, in bright red with custom black detailing down the side.”

“That’s an old car, right? Why do you want it so badly?” he asks casually.

I stare into his dark eyes, a little slice of my anger and soul slipping free, unable to hold it back under his innocent question.

“Because it was my father’s car. He loved that car more than anything, including me, and I have never been able to find it.” I stand, leaving him with more questions than answers.

I feel his eyes on me, but I studiously ignore him. I’ve already said too much.

ELEVEN

The table is filled with food, and I watch my girl delve in with satisfaction. She doesn’t hold back, taking down platefuls, and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen—not that I’d tell her. She’d kick me out, and I’m far too happy where I am right now.

My mind keeps wandering back to her answer. I already knew Fallon had a troubled relationship with her father, but I think it goes deeper than I understand, and I’m curious, but I can’t push it.

“Favorite color?” I ask around a bite.

She startles as if forgetting I was here. “Gray.”

I nod. “Fits.”

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