Page 169 of Riordan's Revenge

For a long minute, we did nothing but hold each other.

“Show me how to wash your hair. Which of these to use in which order.” He gestured to the array of products I had lined up, then in steady devotion, worked through my method.

Under me, he got hard. I was wet from more than the shower.

Neither of us did anything about it, fixing each other first so we could make good our night of horrors. When we were clean, I put ointment and a bandage on his injury. He dried my hair.

For bed, I stole a shirt he’d worn a few days ago which carried the scent of his aftershave. He took it right off me. Tugged me tostraddle him. Let me own him as I rode us both to an emotional climax.

After, when my breathing regained something like a regular pattern, I snuggled Riordan, listening to his heartbeats. “I’m so in love with ye.”

His chest rose and fell. “My turn to say the words. I owe you all of them. I really thought I could be near you and resist the pull. I told you I wouldn’t fall in love. What gave me the right?”

I raised a shoulder. “Delusion?”

A low chuckle returned. “Entirely. Trouble was, I had already started falling from that first glimpse. You fascinated me. Not only the fact that your flawless face and incredible body are enough to bring me to my knees, and those big blue eyes see through me at every chance. But your mind does things to me I didn’t know possible. How fucking smart you are. Your crazy, impulsive, and yet perfect acts. The tracker on my bike? Fucking hell. I get hard every time I think about that ballsy little number. Everything about you is hardwired to turn me on, and yet I told you I was good with a time limit.” He took a short breath. “We’re official, right? I didn’t imagine you telling me you want it all with me?”

My lips curved. “Trust me, I am never letting ye go. You’re everything I’m not. Calm, in control, hot as fuck.”

He nuzzled me. “Agreed on the first one but definitely not the last, wild girl.”

“I still can’t get over the fact that you’re real. Ye were mine from my sighting from up on the plinth in Divide, and you’ll be mine forever. Just try getting away. I’ve still got those handcuffs.”

He groaned and tipped up my face to receive his kiss. Our night went on the same. Sleeping. Giving up words of love. Having sex in between. Finally resting together when the adrenaline crashed and delivered us into exhaustion.

Late in the afternoon, showered and dressed, I rang the hospital to check up on Dixie. The ward nurse was able to give a short update that my friend must’ve been conscious enough to approve, but said she was refusing visitors. My heart hurt, but I’d try again tomorrow. Next, I called a meeting of the Skeleton Girls Detective Agency. Plus hangers-on.

Riordan travelled with me up to Genevieve’s apartment on the top floor. “Should I be honoured to be included in your club?”

“One hundred percent.”

I snagged his hand. Held it.

As badly as I wanted to see my girls, this wasn’t going to be easy.

In the apartment, Rosie, Genevieve’s cat, darted over and wound through my legs. I stooped to stroke her furry brown head, but my focus was on Everly.

My heart sank at her stricken expression.

Crossing to join her, I clasped my hands in front of me, wishing I could go in for a hug but not knowing if I had the right. “I’m so sorry about what happened last night. About your dad.”

I’d murdered her father. No matter what kind of person he’d been, he was still her closest relative, and I’d stabbed him in the heart.

A tear slid down Everly’s cheek. “I can’t believe you’re apologising to me. He would have killed you. He tried to kill my brother. Connor told me what happened, and I hate that my father did that.”

“You’re not angry with me?”

“Of course I’m not. I’m sad, but that’s because of all the things he did, and what he should have been. I can live without him. My life will be better. I would have been devastated if he’d hurt you or my brother.”

My voice shook. “Can I give ye a hug?”

She wound her arms around me. “I thought you’d hate me.”

I gave a hiccupping laugh. “I thought you’d hate me, too.”

Another pair of arms enfolded us. Genevieve’s. She didn’t say anything, but I suspected she felt the same way as Everly about her loss. The sadness was more for what could have been, rather than the men themselves.

We broke apart, and Genevieve guided us to the kitchen where she had coffee and pastries laid out.

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