Page 86 of Riordan's Revenge

I followed him into the living room. On the kitchen counter, a delivery bag held cartons. We sat on the floor and unpacked each, finding wooden cutlery to eat with.

I scooped up a piece of broccoli in soy sauce, spying beef in the mix with udon noodles. Damn, I was hungry. “Hate-sex builds up an appetite.”

Riordan lowered his spoon. “You don’t hate me. I definitely don’t hate you.”

“Maybe ye should. Safer than liking me.”

He chuffed a laugh and tucked into his meal, devouring half before slowing to offer me some. We shared. Gave each other bites of our food.

When we were done, he watched me.

“Did I hurt you, when I…?”

He mimed the spanking I’d taken.

My body warmed. Slowly, I shook my head. “I liked it. But you’re never tying me up again.”

“It’s the only way I can feel safe with you.”

I hung my head. “I’m sorry I scared ye. Are we broken up?”

Riordan sighed and rested against the wall with one leg extended and the other knee raised. “I have no idea what we are.”

Hope kindled inside me. “Ye didn’t walk away, though. Not for long.”

“I don’t seem able. I already had one near heart attack today when I saw your face at the mayor’s house. I couldn’t survive another from the way my chest hurt when I left you on the bed.”

My mind locked on to that sentiment. I crawled closer and rested my chin on his raised knee. “Give me another chance?”

“I don’t hold all the cards here.”

“Except ye do. We both know I’m already in love with ye.”

Riordan’s gaze flickered. Longing shone out. He closed his eyes tight and extinguished the compelling sight. “You have to stop saying that. If we’re going to continue, no more saying the L-word. And we don’t live together. If I ever move in with a woman, I at least expect to know about it.”

Well, shite. He’d asked me not to make decisions on his behalf, and I’d done exactly that. I’d had Manny empty his carand bring up all his belongings. “It’s just, we agreed to stay together. It’s cold outside. This place was sitting here empty.”

“I know. I get it. But we agreed a deal, and barely a day in and I’m fucked up over it.”

My pulse skipped. He was going to end it. This was just his form of a gentler goodbye now the anger had left him. He was talking himself around to walking away, and I’d be without him. God, ithurt.

I sat back on my haunches. “Then tell me what will change that. How can I be different?”

“I don’t want you different. I like you exactly how you are. I just need—” He exhaled what looked like unhappiness. “I need you not to love me. And also not to die or be hurt. I can live with my own death wish but not yours.”

Relief and heartbreak battled inside me. I gave him a tiny nod. “Do ye want to quit our deal?”

“No. I can’t give you up. I don’t know why I’m so messed up.” He mimed his head exploding, a cute action I’d seen him do another time when overwhelmed by me.

I scrambled for a solution. “What if we slow it down? Stop your needing to worry about me constantly. I know I’m full-on.”

“You’re perfect.”

“Clearly not.”

He held my gaze. There was so much warmth in the connection, and in the eye contact I never wanted to get used to. He made me feel so much.

Where I made him feel too much.

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