Page 156 of Fallen Princess: Shadow Stalker

“We’d been through a lot together.”

“Technically, you’ve been through a lot. You paid her to help you through it.”

I smile warmly at him.

“Why are you always my voice of reason?”

His hand moves to take a possessive hold of my jaw, his thumb tracing the full curve of my lips.

“Maybe because my logical thinking balances out your occasional chaos.”

I raise a brow in question.

“You saying I’m a mess?”

“A beautiful chaos that keeps my life interesting,” he grins, his thumb now playfully tapping my lower lip. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He leans in, closing the remaining space between us with a confident ease. His eyes, warm and inviting, lock onto mine, and a subtle smile plays on his lips. The possessive hold on my jaw eases into a gentle caress as he tilts his head ever so slightly. I can feel the soft warmth of his breath as he inches closer, and then, with a perfect blend of tenderness and longing, his lips meet mine in a kiss thatspeaks of unspoken understanding and a shared history written in every subtle movement.

Chapter 40

“No. Absolutely not!”

I fix my gaze on Haze, his expression firm and unwavering. The other guys shift uncomfortably under my scrutiny, their eyes darting away, unwilling to challenge his decision. With a roll of my eyes, I turn my glare on all of them, my frustration evident in the furrow of my brows and the tight set of my jaw. They may choose to remain silent, but my disapproval speaks volumes.

“Come one, Haze,” Brittney rolls her eyes at him. “Eden also needs her girlie time away from all of the testosterone she has to deal with,” her eyes dart at the other three and back to him. “I mean, man, you can cut it with a knife in here! At some point, Eden will transform into a male if she doesn’t get some more estrogen in the atmosphere around her!”

She waves her arms about in a dramatic manner as if she’s trying to get through a mist of male hormones in this jam-packed recording studio. I stifle my laughter by pursing my lips together.

“Stop the melodrama, Brittney,” Haze mutters, putting his guitar in its case. “There’s an arsehole out there trying to kill her. One of us is going with her.”

“But then we can’t talk about how much you suck,” she says, testing his nerves, and my laugh finally escapes. But not because of what she says but the look he gives her.

“You’re acting as if her bodyguard can’t do his job, and you need to be there to make sure he does.”

Brittney’s really got the guns out today.

Rick’s standing by the door like a statue, seemingly not involved. I don’t know how he does it: there all day, but not there. I can’t even imagine what he’s been forced to listen to as a bodyguard.

“How about if we switched cars? Rick takes us in the SUV, and you drive Brittney’s Cayenne home. He can bring us back to your place, and she can switch cars.”

“I’m not keen on—”

I put my hand up at Brit to interrupt her and wait for Haze’s reply.

“That’s not—”

I move my palm to Jagger, who’s about to say something, while Haze looks at me in thought because right now, he’s the loudest voice in the room, objecting to me hanging out alone with my girlfriend.

“I don’t see how that changes anything. How does switching cars make it safer?”

Fuck.

I don’t know.

It just sounded good at the time it left my mouth.

Time to get real, and I pull myself together because I really need this time with Brit.

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