Page 98 of Midnights
My gaze locks onto the ink peeking out from under his sleeve. It winds its way up his forearm like it’s hiding a story I suddenly need to know.
Focus, Raven.
“Rude!” I snap. “I happen to know how to wash dishes, thank you very much. And I’d also like to point out that I'm not getting my hands dirty. I’m getting themclean.”
I grin at my own joke, feeling a little too proud of myself. And before I can second-guess it, I scoop up a handful of bubbles and blow them straight at him.
He raises an eyebrow and a slow devastating smile spreads across his face. It's just enough to make me forget how to breathe.
He takes a step closer, and suddenly, the space between us feels dangerously small.
Heat rushes through me, going straight to my core and I’m praying he can’t tell. I know I need to look away, to step back, to literally say anything. But I don’t. I can't.
“Fair point.” His voice drops dangerously low. “And here I thought you were just a princess.”
I roll my eyes, ignoring the way my body reacts to the way he says that.
“Well, thisprincesshappens to know her way around a sink. Ever heard of Cinderella?”
For a split second, my brain supplies me with an entirely different kind of fairytale, one involving a very different kind of happy ending. But I shove that thought into a vault and throw away the key.
“I’m not sure if you were taught this,” I continue, trying not to sound affected by him. “But insulting people is generally frowned upon.”
Kane tilts his head slightly. “Noted.”
Then, because he’s an ass, he leans in so close that I swear I feel the heat radiating off him.
“I’ll be on my best behavior from now on,” he adds smoothly, his gaze going right to my lips.
God help me.
I force myself to break eye contact and point at his arm, needing a distraction. “So, what’s the story behind the tattoo?”
He looks down at the ink, and for a second, the look in his eyes shifts. The teasing vanishes, his cocky smirk disappears, and it’s replaced by something heavier.
“It’s a long story,” he turns back to the dishes. “Maybe I’ll tell it to you sometime.”
That’s it. That’s all he gives me.
I wait a minute, half expecting him to elaborate but he doesn't. He just keeps rinsing dishes like the conversation never happened.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Seriously? That’s all I get?”
He shrugs, but I see the corners of his mouth twitch.
“What’s the story behind swearing off men?”
I roll my eyes but don’t deflect. After a beat, I decide to just tell him the truth.
“You know when you give your entire soul to someone? When you love so hard, it almost consumes you?” I pause, collecting my thoughts before continuing.
“Well, I learned the hard way that when you love like that, you fall just as hard. And when it ends, you realize everyone was right and you got played.”
I keep washing the dishes while the weight of my words settle over the room like a quiet storm.
“It sucks realizing you were just used and tossed aside like a crumpled piece of paper.” My voice softens and I add, “But the worst part is the guilt. Because deep down, you knew. You knew you had to get out, but you didn’t have the guts to do it.”
I look up and he's staring at me. I probably shouldn't keep talking, but I do.
