Page 44 of Higher Demon

Buoyed by my new, foolproof plan, I get out of the car and hotfoot it to the door.

It opens right as I lift my fist to pound, and Marc raises a brow at me. “I wondered when you’d finally show up. You disappoint me, Ian. Cowardice isn’t a trait I ever associated with you.”

Ouch.

Like, seriously. Fuckingouch.

“I’m not a coward; I’ve been busy. There’s a few things we need to talk about.” I push past him and walk into the house like my sweat doesn’t have sweat. I’m calm. I’m normal. I’m completely chill.

The door closes behind me as I stroll toward the parlor. “Is one of them the way you kissed me and then ran away?”

Wow, Marc’s really not pulling any punches. He’s completely trashed my plan, damn him. Doesn’t he know that normal people avoid conversations like this? Who the hell told him we should communicate in a healthy way? “I didn’t run away. I had to get to work. And of course we need to talk about the kiss.” Fuck.

I take my time making myself comfortable in the armchair. It’s not until my ass touches the seat that I remember the reason I always sit there is because it’s his favorite chair and I like pissing him off. Now, it feels somehow… intimate to sit in it. Like I’m choosing it because he spends so much time there. But if I get up and go over to the couch, he’ll know something’s up.

Why is my brain so fucked-up?

With no other option, I make a show of settling back in the chair and kicking my feet up on the ottoman. His eyes are burning holes into me as he sits on the couch, looking his usual standoffish and ridiculously hot self in a dark suit.

“Hey, you’re falling back into bad habits,” I chide, seizing on the flimsy excuse to avoid talking about the thing I want to avoid talking about.

He arches a single perfect eyebrow in question, and I gesture.

“Your clothes. What happened to the approachable vibe we decided on?”

“Youdecided on,” he corrects. “And since I haven’t seen anyone this week, I decided to wear what makes me comfortable.”

I swear to god, shit like that is proof he’s not really human. No other guy in the world is more comfortable wearing a suit than anything else. Fucking weirdo.

But this gives me the opening I need. “Fair enough. Matt got sent out again—Nevada, this time—and I’ve been digging through the archives every spare minute. I think I’ve found the information we need about the Highett fam?—”

“Coward.”

I stop. Shit. Motherfuckingshit. He’s not letting me get away with it.

I keep trying anyway. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” He looks back at me impassively, and I admit defeat. Fine. He wants to talk about this? We’ll talk.

“I don’t know what you want me to say. I made an impulsive, unwise decision that potentially has the power to impact not just you and me, but our whole worlds. I regret that I put you in this position—I should never have done that without making sure you were okay with it.”

There. That’s very mature and adult of me.

He scoffs. “You can’t even say it, can you?”

My heart starts pounding. “Marc?—”

“No. You’ve had your turn. I gave you plenty of time and opportunity. And while your little speech was very pretty, it completely lacked substance.”

“It did not!”

“Really?” He sneers. “You should never have ‘done that’? Done what, Ian? Tell me, what exactly did you do? Stop skating around the edges and actually make it real.”

I can hear my pulse beating faster and faster as he stares me down. He’s right, damn him. If I say the words, say them out loud, put them out into the world… it all becomes real. It becomes something I actually have to deal with and can’t ignore.

“I kissed you.”

Chapter18

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