Page 98 of The Obedient Lie
There, between their knuckles—same spot. Same long pale scar. White and faded. Almost invisible unless you were close.
I frowned. “What’s this?”
Neither of them moved.
“Can you tell me what is it, and why do youbothhave it?”
The air changed instantly.
Still.
Sharp.
Bastion didn’t pull his hand away. He just reached up with his other one, brushing my cheek, grounding me with that soft, steady pressure I wasn’t sure he even realized he used on me.
“One day,” he said quietly.
“Not tonight?”
His eyes flicked to mine, something unreadable behind them. “That kind of story, baby… it comes with a ring on your finger and our name tattooed on your back.”
My breath caught.
Luca tossed back the rest of his drink and set the glass down a little harder than necessary.
“So you can’t leave,” he muttered, “when you find out how fucked up we are.”
I sat between them, still holding both of their hands, still warm with wine and a little too much wanting. I didn’t let go.
I lifted their hands to my lips.
Kissed Luca’s first. Right at the scar.
Then Bastion’s. The same spot.
“I like your hands,” I whispered, soft and dreamy. Like I was talking aboutjusttheir hands. Not the men. Not the mouths that kissed me breathless. Just the hands. Like I didn’t realize how much I was giving away.
Then I blinked and waved it off, cheeks flushed. “I mean—not in aweirdway.”
Bastion looked at Luca, deadpan.
“You justhadto give her the thirty-year Highland scotch.”
Luca didn’t flinch. “It’s smooth.”
“She’sgone,” Bastion muttered.
“I’mnot,” I said indignantly. “I’m just tipsy.”
I leaned back against Bastion, settling into the heat of him like it was the most natural thing in the world—because it was. His arm slid around my waist, solid and steady, grounding me as I turned my head to look at Luca.
God,Luca.
I watched him pour another drink.
His sleeves rolled up his forearms, shirt slightly unbuttoned, like he belonged in a black-and-white photo no one was ever allowed to touch. His eyes were sharp, mouth still curved from whatever dangerous thing he’d been thinking, and the light from the floor-to-ceiling windows hit his jaw just right—like the whole city bowed to the shape of him.
“You look like a dream,” I murmured, the words slipping out before I could catch them.
