Page 68 of Sloth
“So what is it?”
“Not planning makes me nervous.” His eyes flashed with some unnamed emotion, but she felt his doubt prickle at her.
“I thought you said ‘no doubts’.”
“It’s not you I’m doubting.”
Her breath hitched. “Are you doubting us?”
“No! I’m… look, it’s me. I’m doubting me. I’m not okay with leaving a stone unturned. I need to know everything before going in. So, can you please just continue briefing me with everything you know?”
“I thought I was.”
“You haven’t told me about your other sister.”
“Oh.”
He moved ahead with quick strides and Sloan jogged to keep up. A rush of compassion washed through her.
“Max, Gale’s death wasn’t your fault.”
He kept walking doggedly. “It was, and you know it.”
“You can’t blame yourself for the actions of crazy people.”
“Can we not talk about this now?”
She took him by the shoulder. “Stop.”
His dark scowling eyes met hers. “We don’t have time for this.”
“There’s always time for me to tell you how incredible you are.” He tried to look away, but Sloan dragged his face back to hers. “I mean it, Max. Just look at what you’re doing. You’re not only helping us fight the Syndicate, but you’re helping a complete stranger find his daughter. You’ve set up a security company purely to employ your friends—”
“Because it was my fault they lost their jobs. I’m lucky we weren’t sent to prison.”
“—and you were ready to help me, even though you hated me. You offered to create some sort of touching schedule to ease my sin.” She shook his head between her palms. “Don’t you dare say you don’t deserve to be happy.”
He frowned. “I didn’t say that.”
“No, but I can feel it in your heart, Max. Every time you get a flash of happiness, you immediately stomp on it.”
Eyes spearing each other, they stared for long moments. Then Max’s face softened. “I’ll never be able to hide anything from you again.”
She grinned. “There goes poker night with the boys.”
“Oh, I’ll still go. But you’ll know it.” He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers and then he pressed his forehead against hers.
Both inhaled and exhaled, letting the air take the tension that had crept into their bodies. Or maybe it was Max’s touch. Misha had been right. Just touching him made every irritation seep out like an ebbing tide.
“Thank you, Sloan,” he murmured.
“You won’t be thanking me when I kick your butt at poker. Oh, yeah. I’ll be coming. Don’t you worry.”
“I’m not worried. You can be my secret weapon.” He kissed her again, then stepped away. “Right. I want to know everything about your sister. Not Liza, obviously. The one you called Daisy.”
“Information overload!”
He only shot her a “don’t-mess-with-me” glare.
