Page 150 of A Little Broken

When she catches me staring at her despite my silence, she squirms. “What?”

“Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“About my secrets.” I move closer, my need to pull her into me is almost more than I can bear. So, I do. My fingers dig into her hips as I tug her toward me, savoring the feel of her curves pressed against my chest on the side of the road. “I like you.”

Her eyes soften, and her hands find the belt loops above my ass as she bats her lashes up at me. “I’m pretty sure you’ve mentioned that already.”

“Glad you remember,” I quip. “And even though you haven’t said it back, you did mention you’re falling for a villain, so I’m gonna go out on a limb and say I think you like me, too.”

Her attention falls to my mouth. “No comment.”

“Uh-uh.” I burrow closer, dragging the tip of my nose along hers in an eskimo kiss. “Secret for a secret, Birthday Girl. I wanna hear you say it.”

“And if I do, you’ll tell me about the shady side of your extracurricular activities?”

“Cross my heart,” I promise.

“Fine. I, uh…” She takes a deep breath, toying with the hem of my T-shirt. “I think I might like you, too, Pax.”

The same warmth in my chest spreads, and I tighten my hold around her waist. If I could record this moment, the tiny inflection in her voice, the shift of her gaze, the lift of her mouth, I’d record it all to keep for rainy days. But I also know if I ask her to repeat it, if I push her more than I already have, she might clam up. So instead, I give her another tight squeeze of appreciation. “Now was that so hard, Birthday Girl?”

Her lips purse. “I believe it’s your turn, Mr. Security.”

“All right,” I concede. “Here’s the thing. I’m trying to figure out what to tell you without…”

“Without what?”

“Without incriminating you.”

Her breath hitches. “You’re really serious? Pax…”

“Do you remember when I told you Judge’s nephews are into some shady shit?” I ask.

“Yes?”

“Well, running an underground fighting ring is one of them.”

“Is that where the bruises are coming from?” She doesn’t look pissed. She looks…confused.

“Yes and no,” I mutter.

“Gonna need more than that, Pax.”

“Technically, I haven’t brawled yet. The bruises are from the sparring sessions, like I told you.”

Her gaze narrows, and she pulls out of my grasp, folding her arms again as if the physical barrier is strong enough to fortify the emotional ones I’ve spent so much time eradicating. “I feel like there’s a but coming on,” she murmurs.

“But,” I say, confirming her suspicion. “I’m kind of…in training.”

“Training,” she repeats, her expression on lockdown.

“Yes.”

Unfolding her arms, she tucks her hair behind her ear as she studies me, carefully. “Doesn’t it defeat the purpose of you being here to draw the public's attentionawayfrom their shindigs if you’re participating in them?”

“Maybe.”

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