Page 14 of Bitter Queen (Advantage Play 4)

Pulling a pillow to her chest, she curls onto her side and stares blankly at the wall behind me. But she doesn’t answer me.

It’s like I don’t exist anymore.

Not to her.

The realization burns, though I refuse to acknowledge why.

And it’s all because I promised to keep her safe. Maybe she’s right, though. Maybe she doesn’t need a hero. Maybe she needs to learn how to defend herself. And I’m going to teach her how.

* * *

I sleep like shit, tossing and turning all night, but I’m grateful when I don’t wake up to any more screaming from Q’s room. In the kitchen, I find some eggs and whip together a quick breakfast before knocking on Q’s door with a plate in hand.

She doesn’t acknowledge my presence even though I can see her sitting on her bed.

Fighting back my annoyance, I call out, “Hey, can I come in?”

Silence.

“Q, can I come in? Please? I brought breakfast.”

More silence.

“It’s bacon and eggs. Nice and fresh.”

When she doesn’t bother to look at me, I curse under my breath and take a step back toward the stairs before a soft squeak from her room makes me pause. Unfolding herself from the bed, she pads over to me while I try to ignore how sexy she looks in my T-shirt and boxers. Her ashy blue hair is a mess as she tucks it behind her ear, but she doesn’t say a word when she reaches me.

“Can I come in?” I ask gently.

Lips pursed, she gives in and waves her arm in front of her like it’s a silent welcome banner that says, come right in.

My annoyance sparks into amusement as I witness her display.

Damn, she’s cute.

Stepping inside, I set the plate of hot food on the nightstand. Her eyes dart over to it, and I can almost see her mouth watering, but she doesn’t reach for it or take a bite.

“You can eat it,” I tell her.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Bullshit. I brought food up to your room last night after we cut your hair, and you didn’t touch it. It’s been at least twenty-four hours, Q. Why won’t you eat it?”

Her teeth dig into her lower lip, but she doesn’t answer me, making my earlier amusement disappear.

“Do you think I drugged it or something?”

With a one-shouldered shrug, she climbs back onto the bed, then grabs the same pillow from last night and tucks it against her chest.

Taking the fork on her plate, I shove a massive bite of eggs into my mouth, then steal a slice of bacon and toss it in there too. She watches me chew but doesn’t move until I swallow and offer her the fork.

She stares at it for a few seconds before finding the courage to take it from me. Hands shaking, she scoops up a small piece of scrambled egg. With her eyes on mine, her lips wrap around the utensil before she chews and swallows.

Then her manners evaporate, and she devours the entire meal, moaning as soon as the salty bacon touches her tongue. My chuckle mingles with her soft groan of appreciation as I sit down in an armchair tucked in the corner of her room.

With a contented sigh, she sets the fork down, then rests against the headboard and looks over at me with those same doe eyes that could bring a man to his knees.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

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