Page 31 of Kings Against the World

I reach for a pillow and hurl it at him, slugging him right in the face. “What the hell’s wrong with how I sound? Am I supposed to talk in a stupid baby voice like some women do with their man? HA!”

“How do you usually sound with the guys you date? You do date… right?”

“I promise you I can have a man whenever I want, Gallagher!” I snap, fired up at once.

He holds up both hands. “I didn’t say you couldn’t. You could probably find five guys in the lobby downstairs. But getting a guy is easy for a chick like you. All you’ve gotta do is smile and show some titty or ass and he’s taking the bait. The real question is, when was your last relationship?”

I should have a better poker face by now for these conversations.

As Ozzie poses his question, brows raised and a knowing glint in his blue eyes, more heat flushes over me. I part my lips to speak, then roll them together, blinking and fuming. I take a second too long to react and prove his point—I’ve never been the relationship type.

I turn thirty-one soon and I’ve had two official boyfriends.

The first in college, which ended horribly with him cheating on me with my best friend Gia and me kneeing him in the balls. The second was during my first year out in the field, and even that wasn’t aproperrelationship. I started dating my division manager at the time, making for an awkward dynamic at work. In the end, he dumped me when he got a promotion and had to move to New York City on a special assignment.

All the other men I’ve been with—the Tinder dates, the college hook ups, the occasional fuck buddy from the gym—have been casual. No-strings-attached sex and nothing more. Some of them didn’t even know my real name. I damn sure didn’t know much about them either.

But that’s always how I’ve preferred it.

I’ve either been too busy focusing on my career in the FBI or dealing with my family troubles. I’ve been brutally aware of myown issues and how it inhibits me from ever having a normal, healthy romantic relationship…

My pause ends as I release a sigh and decide there’s no point trying to prove Gallagher wrong.

“It’s been years,” I answer tepidly. “I’m not big on relationships. I prefer to keep things casual.”

His reaction is… interesting.

A range of mild confusion, then surprise, then a nod of acceptance as he runs his hands over his mohawk and gives it some thought.

“You know what, I can see it.”

My brow arches. “See what exactly?”

“You preferring casual. You don’t seem like you’re…” He pauses as if deciding on a word. “You don’t come across like a very sentimental chick.”

“For one, I’m not a chick. I’m awoman. For two, being sentimental gets you killed in my line of work. It’s your turn, Galla—Ozzie. You’re a pussyhound, so I’m guessing there’s no special ‘chick’ in your life? Though bikers do have a rep for fucking around.”

He laughs and drops down on the opposite side of the bed. His body language is so much more relaxed than mine without even trying. It’s his nature to be so loose and casual at all times. Meanwhile, my posture’s straight even when relaxing.

“Pussyhound,” he repeats. “You know, that should’ve been my moniker at the club. Mace, Cash, Ghost, Silver… and Pussyhound. It describes me to a T. But, yeah, you’re right—there’s no special girl.”

“Not a relationship guy?”

“Nah, I’ve had plenty of girlfriends. Can’t even name ’em all.”

“That’s charming.”

“But it never works out. They usually find something better and leave.” He shrugs as if used to it, then grabs his lighteroff the nightstand. He flips the lighter open and shut for entertainment. “So tell me about the guys you hook up with. What gets Special Agent Zoe Strauss going?”

The same funny flutter returns to my stomach. I sit with my legs folded and heat spreading across my skin as he poses his question with an air of casual curiosity.

I’m not sure why it feels weird to hear him ask; I’m not sure why it feels even weirder to answer.

We’re supposed to know each other intimately. People in relationships disclose parts of their past all the time. They talk about likes, dislikes, hopes, fears, good and bad memories…

…except you’re not the vulnerable type.

You never have been. You never will be.

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