Page 35 of Sacrifice
I wasn't—okay, maybe I was glancing around. Trying to spot him. Making sure he wasn't lurking nearby, ready to scare off anyone else who tried to talk to me.
Me:
I wasn't looking for you. Don't flatter yourself.
Emil:
Third picnic table from the left. You've checked four times in the last two minutes.
Fuck. I hate that he notices everything.
Me:
I was looking for my brother.
Emil:
He's by the beer cooler with Bodul. Try again.
Me:
I hate you.
Emil:
I know. Wear something pretty to bed tonight. I want you looking good in my dreams.
My face flames. The arrogant, presumptuous?—
"Saga!" Soren appears with my beers. "You okay? You look like you're about to kill someone."
"I might be," I mutter, shoving my phone in my pocket. "Where's that knife you mentioned earlier?"
"The metaphorical one about sexual tension? Can't help you there." He grins. "But if you need an actual knife, I'd ask Emil. Dude definitely has at least three on him at all times."
"Why would you think that?"
"Because he looks like the kind of guy who's always prepared to protect what's his." Soren hands me a beer. "And the way he looks at you? Yeah, you're definitely his. Even if you're too stubborn to admit it."
"I'm not?—"
"Save it." He clinks his bottle against mine. "Just promise me I get to be a groomsman at the wedding."
"There's not going to be a?—"
"And name your first kid after me. Soren's a great name. Works for boys or girls."
"When I do decide to go around killing people, you’re first on my fucking list."
"Get in line. Pretty sure Emil would beat you to it if I looked at you wrong." He pauses. "Actually, that prospect from earlier might need to go into witness protection. Emil looked like he was going to skin him alive."
"He wouldn't."
"You sure about that? Because from where I was standing?—"
"Can we please talk about something else?" I beg. "Literally anything else?"
"Sure. Want to hear about my organic chemistry professor who might be cooking meth?"
