Page 61 of Shadow Of Sin

“But he listened to you today when you told him to back off.”

“Ronan listens to me because he can’t afford not to. I’m the one who keeps the systems running. I’m the one who sees things nobody else sees. He doesn’t like to depend on anyone. But he needs me.”

“That’s a shitty way to live.”

“It’s the only way I know.”

I stare at him. He’s sitting two feet away from me on a secondhand couch in an apartment that smells like a dry cleaner, telling me about a childhood that hollowed him out, and a family that needs his brain but doesn’t know what to do with the rest of him.

And he sounds so…logical. About all of it. There’s no emotion in his voice, and based on things he just told me, there should definitely be a lot of it.

“Wolfe,” I say, leaning forward, watching his thumb tap, tap, tap with lightning speed.

“Yeah.”

“The radio your dad broke. The vintage one.”

“What about it?”

“Did you ever rebuild it?”

He looks at me. Something flickers behind his eyes. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because he broke it on purpose to hurt me. And every time I looked at the pieces, I felt that. So I threw them away.”

“That’s the saddest thing you’ve ever told me.”

“I’m aware.”

I don’t think about what I do next. My brain doesn’t give me a warning or a list of reasons not to. My hand just moves. I reach across the two feet between us and touch his arm.

He goes still. Completely, totally still. Like time is frozen. His thumb stops. His breathing hitches. After a few seconds, his eyes drop to my hand on his arm and stays there.

Three seconds. Four. Five.

“Eva,” he says in a husky voice.

“Don’t say anything,” I say. “Just... don’t.”

He doesn’t.

I crawl across the couch and kiss him.

It’s not smooth. I come at him from a weird angle because my body decided to do this before my brain mapped out the logistics of my position. For a hot second, I think I’ve made the biggest mistake of my life.

Then his hand comes up and grazes my jaw. Just his fingertips. It’s light, almost as if he’s checking to make sure I’m real.

And he kisses me back.

Slow. Careful. Methodical. The exact way he approaches everything. His thumb traces along my jawline and tingles explode over my skin. I feel it in places that have nothing to do with my face. My neck. My chest. My belly. The base of my spine.

Oh, holy shit, this man can kiss.

I should pull back. I should definitely pull back.

Instead, my hand slides from his arm to the back of his neck. His thick dark hair is soft between my fingers. He makes a sound, not quite a moan, but something that tells me he likes what I’m doing.