Page 37 of Mystique of the Fallen
“You should know where I live,” Grant said. “Plus, what the fuck do I know about whether an apartment is nice? I’ve literally been alive for eight weeks, and I’ve been in a dorm the entire time.”
“You aren’t going to make me walk to your dorm and carry your shit, are you?”
“Allow the legendary and noble Venerable Knight Calixtus to carry my duffel? Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Roman’s sigh was long and drawn out. “Now you’ve dropped a gauntlet I can’t ignore. If I let you carry it, I’m a diva completely hung up on my own legendary status. Did you pick the dorm closest to the cafeteria?”
“It was the one Arvandus suggested,” Grant said, quickly falling into step next to Roman, who’d taken off down the hall.
“Yeah, he does that every year.”
“Do you think it’s better to be predictable or spontaneous?”
“Why choose?” Roman asked. “Do what suits you. I’m old and set in my ways, so I’m probably more predictable than spontaneous.”
“Were you spontaneous as a younger fallen knight?”
Roman’s mouth twisted, and he took so long to answer, Grant feared he hated the question. “In my personal life, yes.”
Grant assumed Roman was referring to his sex life, and he grinned. “Do you want to tell me about your spontaneous hookups?”
“Absolutely not.”
“As a man with no sexual experience, which I now know is your fault, it might be educational for me to learn from a man with centuries of expertise in lovemaking.”
Roman waited until they were at Grant’s dorm, then he opened the door with his identification card—as he had access to every space in the building—and pointed at the duffel bag sitting on the bed Grant had made that morning. “Go get your shit.”
“I thought you were carrying it?”
“I was. But you teased me about my sex life. I’m not sharing any of that with you, so now you can carry it your damn self.”
Grant laughed so hard he snorted. “You’re really fun to tease.”
“It’s a good thing I like your laugh or I’d be really pissed right now.”
“You’re not even mad,” Grant said with a roll of his eyes. “Wait. Did RK Conley tell us the address of my apartment?”
Roman dug out his phone. “I’ll text him. Stop calling him RK.”
“Keep reminding me until I stop.”
“You got it. Okay, here’s the address, and there’s a Dérive station next to it. Meet me there?”
Grant memorized the location in the photo Roman showed him and nodded. “Yep.”
Closing his eyes, Grant shimmered to the appropriate Dérive station and was pleased to note that Roman arrived at nearly the same moment. It had yet to fully sink in that Roman was his other half, but Grant had already decided he enjoyed the man’s company.
And staring at the gorgeous, perfect planes of his face. Not to mention the fascinating blue eyes that were already giving Grant clues about Roman’s feelings. Did Roman always display his emotions openly, or was he allowing himself to be vulnerable because they were mates? Grant couldn’t wait to find out everything that made Roman tick.
“You’re on the fourth floor,” Roman said as they headed out of the Dérive station and turned the corner toward the tall building that gleamed in the bright sun of Sin City.
“Four may be my lucky number.”
“Makes sense, Mr. Fourth Venerable Knight.”
“Thanks, Mr. Second Venerable Knight.”
They went inside into a modern entrance with minimal décor, white-and-black tiled floors, and textured wallpaper. Roman hit the up button on the elevator, and Grant followed him inside. It gave him a second to appreciate the sexy way Roman walked and the firm, pleasing curve of his ass. Fate had been unbelievably kind to Grant.
