Page 96 of Death is My Ride or Die

“It’s a long T-shirt.”

“With no shorts underneath.” He played it off with a nonchalant tone, but I knew better. It had been a question in disguise. One he wouldn’t get an answer to.

“It’s not every day I get to leave your penthouse. I wanted to look pretty.”

“For Ace.”

“For me.”

“Hmm.” His stare was unflinching.

“How would you know if Cruentas thinks I’m funny and clever?” I asked.

Death tilted his head to the side.

“The note that you had Glenn send me,” I explained. “You said Cruentas thought I was funny and clever.”

“Because he talks to me. I understand every language. I’m Death.” His mouth curved into a slow smirk. “Impressed?”

“A dead guy who can talk to horses and squirrels but can’t apologize to a woman. Yeah, real impressive, buddy—”

“I’m not yourbuddy,” Death snapped. “And I’m certainly not your friend.”

Touchy about the friend zone. Made me want to keep pushing his deadly buttons.

“Relax, I’d never be your actual friend anyway,” I said, and his eyes narrowed slightly. “A friend of mine wouldn’t have kept half of himself from me because he thought I’d run away screaming at the sight of his beast. A friend wouldn’t cut another man who hurt me down at the knees but never hold himself accountable for all the pain he’s caused me himself.”

He said nothing, and my eyes unexpectedly stung.

“One moment you’re kissing me, making me think there’s something there,” I said, “and the next, you’re lying to me again. I sold my soul to you because I thought Marcy would die.”

“I let you bury a knife into my chest,” he growled. “That was my apology.”

“You and I have twoverydifferent definitions of an apology.”

“It appears so.”

“I don’t know why I even came up.” Rising from my blanket, I started to get up, but a hot, leather-gloved hand encircled my wrist.

“Don’t go,” Death said stiffly. “Stay.”

My chest felt so tight. Coming to my senses, I ripped free of his grasp. “How do you sleep at night?”

“I don’t.” His laughter had an edge as he turned his face away from mine. “If you only knew what goes on in my head when I’m around you.”

“Tell me,”I said. “Tell me what goes on in your head. Tell meanything. You used to hide under the hood. Now you hide in plain sight. What don’t you want me to see? How many more secrets can one person possibly keep?”

His cold, marble features shifted through several emotions, but he remained silent.

“How am I supposed to trust someone who won’t let his guard down for five seconds? Isn’t that what you and Lucifer want from me?Trust?You barely tell me anything about yourself.”

“It’s better that way.”

“Another half-assed answer.”

“You know what your problem is?” Death asked.

I stared at him, shocked that he was deflecting this back to me. “I’m looking right at him!”

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