Page 229 of Darling Venom
On purpose?
When he took a seat on the other side of the desk, he gave no indication he’d even noticed.
“I have the means to buy my own food,” he said casually. As if he hadn’t just touched me. Lit a match. Left me to burn. “If I wanted to, I would have.”
“I know.” I tried to control my heartbeats. “But I wanted to buy you food, so I did, and you can’t say no to it because I bought it on my measly salary.”
“Reagan’s not enough of an asshole to pay you a measly salary.”
“You don’t know that.”
“What happened to the girl who claimed to be Reagan’s favorite?”
“Do you always have an answer for everything?”
“Only Monday through Sunday.” His knuckles grazed his chin. “I’ll eat the leftovers later.”
“Good.”
I believed him. Couldn’t keep the smile off my face, too.
A yawn extinguished it, catching me by surprise.
“Did you sleep?”
“Had a late night.” I popped a brow. “I wonder why.”
“What happened to ‘call me whenever you want’?”
“Didn’t say I regret it. Just pointed out a fact. I stayed out late, and now I’m tired.” I made my way to the lounger by the floor-to-ceiling windows, plopping onto it with another yawn. This time, I managed to cover my mouth. “Offer still stands.”
Which brought me to my other offer.
To save him.
Did he remember that, too?
I opened my mouth to ask him, but he beat me to the punch.
“Go home. Get some rest.”
“I’m fine,” I swore, scoring a hat trick with the yawns. “Not even tired.”
What a crowning achievement, my ability to get everything wrong.
I woke up with Tate in my face, pulling a thick blanket over me.
The sun shone behind him like a halo.
The urge to kiss him crashed into me hard. I reached out, grazing his jaw. His eyes pitched to mine. His long fingers stilled at the edge of the fleece, so close to touching me.
“Tate.”
“You fell asleep.”
A raised brow followed up his words, as if to say, I told you so.
“Oh.” I cleared my throat, unsure whether to stay down or sit up. “I forgot to tell you. Sylvia took her lunch break.”
