Page 51 of When Death Whispers

And I lean toward her.

Fucking hell.

I thought seeing her with her hair down was hot, but this?

This is a goddamn test of willpower.

The slope of her neck. The way her shoulder tenses slightly as she moves. The glow of the light catching in her pale hair. It takes everything I have not to crowd her space and taste every inch of her skin.

“Hudson?”

I blink. She’s staring at me, lips parted in a cute little amused curve.

Fuck. She caught me staring like a creep.

“Did you want some tea?” she repeats, tilting her head just slightly. Damn, she’s perceptive.

I swallow the lump in my throat and flash her a smirk, masking the chaos inside. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll take it the same way you do.”

She hums, lips twitching. “You mean hard and fast, with a little hair pulling? Damn. I didn’t peg you for the kinky type, golden boy.”

I choke so violently I swear I nearly inhale my own soul.

Did she just?—

She pats my back like I’m a delicate fucking flower on the verge of death. “Aww, there, there. I enjoy a little choking too, but no need to die on me, Hudson.”

The laugh that slips from her is low, rich—and it crawls down my spine like a spark. Goosebumps lift along my arms, and a brand-new goal settles in my gut:

Make Parker laugh like that as often as humanly possible.

When I can finally breathe again, I shoot her a ridiculous grin. “Jesus. You can’t just say shit like that, Silver. I honestly might not survive.”

Her smile deepens, and for the first time, it reaches her eyes. Seems like I may have found a new nickname she likes. And it hits me like a punch to the chest because she’sglowing.

Not from fear. Not from adrenaline. But from actual joy.

Parker hands me a steaming mug, the scent of peppermint curling into the air.

“Peppermint tea with honey. Helps with digestion, nerves, and headaches,” she says casually, leaning against the counter. “Among other things.”

I take a sip, surprised by the smooth sweetness. It’s… surprisingly good.

“Huh. I don’t think I’ve ever had tea like this before. Definitely beats the shit I made earlier.”

Her lips twitch. “See? You don’t need fancy food to enjoy some simple pleasures. I’ll win you over to the dark side. Little by little.”

And somehow, that statement feels like it carries farmore weight than simply tea.

We stare at each other, the space between us charged with something neither of us names.

My fingers tighten around my mug. I take a step closer, my pulse hammering in my ears.

To dowhat, exactly?

Comfort her? Kiss her? Tell her I’ll protect her, cherish her, save her?

I could do all of that, say all of that—but we both know the truth.

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