Page 110 of Pink Ink

He tucks my hair behind my ear. “No, she doesn’t know exactly what I’ve done.”

“Do your parents?”

Frowning, I see the exact moment that I lose him. Something switches behind his eyes. A thought or a memory. I’m back to questioning how many secrets he’s hiding from me. I don’t want to keep living in the dark.

“Just give me time to figure out how to end things without causing an explosion in the process. I can’t risk you.” He cups my cheek, changing the subject. “Let me be your monster, love. It’s always been dark around my soul, and you’ve made me hungry for more.”

I swallow, trying to hide my disappointment. “I need time to think.”

“As much time as you need. I’ll be here waiting for you. For as long as it takes.”

REYNA

Maybe I should have relented to Maddox’s insistence I stay at his place last night, after we went to the hospital. I needed room to think, but Nurse Kimi apparently doesn’t have that in her treatment plan.

“Here’s your soup, Grandma.” She marches in carrying a breakfast tray that I didn’t know we owned and props it up on the empty space on the bed.

“I have a concussion, not the flu.”

“Same thing.” The hot liquid almost spills everywhere when she flops down onto the bed, then rolls onto her stomach to go on her phone.

Shaking my head, I carefully spoon the food into my mouth. I feel exponentially better than I did yesterday, but my brain and body still aren’t on speaking terms. “Did you make this?”

She gives me the universalare you kidding melook. “Reyna, please. Think before you ask stupid questions.”

“Apologies, let me rephrase: Where did you buy this from?”

“That’s better.” She grins. “I DoorDashed it from Golden Dragon. I had a craving for their mapo tahu.”

“Thank you for thinking about me during your cravings.”

Typing away on her phone, she gives me a brief nod. I manage about eight spoonfuls before I think I’m going to throw up. Any person would struggle to eat after finding out the guy they’re sleeping with is an engaged serial killer who also happens to be their professor and potentially has information about their dead father. The concussion doesn’t help.

Life has been empty since my parents died. All I had was work, class, and a wild goose chase. Maddox changed that. Maybe that makes me afool, or maybe that makes me desperate, but I don’t want to go back to not knowing what being alive feels like.

“Are you sure you’re good?” Kimi’s voice jars me from my thoughts.

“Hmm?”Oh, you know, I’ve been sleeping with the serial killer I’ve been stalking, and guess what!? He’s my professor, and it turns out he is—or maybe was—planning on getting married next year. Also, did I mention that the only lead I have on my father’s life also happens to involve said serial killer?“Yeah, I’m good.”

“You had a nasty-ass fall, but, like”—she waves a finger at my bruised face—“you have this dead thing going on in your eyes that’s weirding me out.”

“Jesus Christ.” I huff a laugh that hurts my ribs. “What you’re seeing is something I call stress, and what the doctors call a concussion.” The non-lie slips easily from my tongue.

I’m an awful friend.

“Maybe you should get Professor Psycho to eat you out real good to take some of the edge off.”

My cheeks burn bright red, and I throw the nearest cushion at her. “We’ve done itonce.” Well, multiple times in one session.

“Yes, and you should do it again because you were a better person after you got dicked down. Your skin was glowing in a way that no K-beauty routine could achieve.”

I wasn’t planning on telling her about my little crush on my professor, and I most definitely planned on keeping our tryst a secret. But apparently, I had a bounce in my step even though I was struggling to walk. Kimi is like a dog with a bone when she smells gossip, especially if it involves my typically nonexistent sex life—or as Kimi calls it, myregenerated hymen.

So for better or worse, I relented. Now, every day she’ll remind me about the times my professor gave me a religious experience. As if I don’t already replay it every night before bed, trying to relive that moment with a vibrating wand.

“If not Mr. Tall, Dark, and Traumatized, then I’m pretty sure Lawrence would come running with bells if you gave him a booty call.”

I blanch. “In that case, my hymen will be a permanent fixture.”