Page 11 of Glitter Rose
A beautiful pink flush spreads across her cheeks.
Before I know what I’m doing, my thumb brushes across her cheek, the warmth and softness of her skin seeping into my calloused fingertip. Her flush deepens under my touch, spreading down her neck, and time suspends.
I should pull away. Yet my hand stays, thumb brushing over that blush like I’m memorizing it.
Her lips part on an inhale, pupils dilating.
What the hell am I doing?
I jerk my hand away like I’ve been burned, the warmth of her skin lingering on my fingertips. “Sorry. Eyelash.”
Lie. Fucking liar.
She blinks rapidly, hand flying to the spot I touched. “Oh. Thanks. I-uh.” She scoots off the couch, avoiding my eyes. “I should check the streets. Yes. Make sure we’re secure. You need anything? Water? Food?”
Did I make her uncomfortable? “Water would be good.” I clear my throat. “And maybe some answers about how you’ve survived alone in a high-rise for a year.”
Her face falls. “Water first. And I told you… magic.”
“Huh.”
“That again. What’s it supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” I stretch. I kind of like her directness. “Just trying to figure out what I’ve walked into.”
“Fallen into. And you’re welcome, by the way. What were you doing climbing my fire escape in the middle of the nightanyway?”
“Shelter,” I say. “Didn’t know it was booby-trapped.”
“You weren’t supposed to use it.”
“And you shouldn’t be helping strange men. For all you know, I could be worse than what’s out there.”
She chews on her lip. “Are you?”
“Depends who you ask.”
“I’m asking you.”
“No.” I lounge back against the couch cushions. “But that’s exactly what the bad guy would say, isn’t it?”
“Bad guys usually don’t point that out.”
“Unless they’re playing the long game, princess.” I let a hint of danger bleed into my voice, studying her reaction closely. “Gain your trust, wait until you’re comfortable, then take everything.”
Her eyes widen, but instead of the fear I expect, a spark lights them. She crosses her arms, jutting her hip out. “You’re testing me.”
“Just stating facts. World’s full of monsters now. Not all of them are dead.”
“Whatever.” She glances at my ankle. “How bad is it?”
“I’ve had worse.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting.” I swing my legs to the floor, testing the weight. Pain shoots up my calf, but I suppress a flinch.
She notices anyway. “The book said to stay off it for?—”
