Chapter 43: 41 - Dogs Are Love . . .

A/N: Hey, so there's literally no reason for this note other than to tell you to please watch the above video. I promise you won't regret it.

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"Hey, Lis," I chirped into my phone brightly. "I've got that money I owe you."

Rian sat against the wall defeatedly. I leaned on my cue stick, winking at him when he glanced up to glare at me.

"Oh man," Lisa groaned over the line. "Did you rob somebody?"

I scowled into the receiver, even though she couldn't see me. "Why does everyone assume that I'd steal money so easily?"

"Because you have. We've seen it happen."

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. I didn't rob anyone, I promise you that."

There was a long silence. Finally, Lisa sighed. "Well, that's great if you have it with you. The only problem is I won't be around to collect, at least for a little while."

I frowned. "What do you mean? You're going somewhere?"

"Yeah," she responded. "Remember that cooking competition I told you about, way back when? The tag-team one with me and Rokim?"

I squinted, thinking back to the days I was still teaching Rian how to cook. I vaguely recalled what she was talking about. "Yeah," I answered.

"Well, it's starting in two days. Rokim and I have to fly out for about a week or so. You can give me the money after that, okay?"

I pouted, a little put out. "Aw. Too bad you're leaving, but have fun over there." A grin slipped over my face. "Make sure to give 'em hell."

"Roger that. Miss you."

"Miss you too. Tell Kimmy I said the same."

We ended the call, and I turned back to Rian. He glared up at me, his hair standing on end from all the times he'd run his fingers through it.

"I cannot believe you hustled me."

I gave him a sharp-toothed grin. "Hustle you?" I purred, crouching down next to him. "Why, Haltie, I would never do that."

He groaned, digging his fingers in his hair again. "You got a hell of a lot better while you were in France, that's for sure," he muttered. "And now I have to hear that godforsaken nickname wherever I go."

"That's why you shouldn't write cheques you can't cash, Haltie. It's just common sense, Haltie."

"You better stop."

"Why should I, Haltie?" I smirked. This was fun.

His glare turned even darker. "I'm serious. Call me that one more time."

My smirk widened. "Haltie. Haltie. Halt—!"

The world blurred as the cue stick in my hand clattered to the floor.

I barely stifled a yelp as Rian yanked me forward, swinging me around like I weighed nothing. Before I realized what was happening, I was straddled precariously on his lap, his breath fanning seductively over my ear.

Too far too far I went too far—

"This is — this is harassment," I gulped, breathless. He chuckled softly, and I shivered against my will as the sound travelled down my spine. He lowered his head to my neck, deliciously close, and for a second I lost the ability to breathe entirely.

The memory of his teeth, his lips, his tongue on my skin made my hair stand on end. It made heat pool in my gut. Just a little closer. Just a little bit closer, and . . .

My arms shot out to grip his shoulders, fingers bunching against the hard muscle.

"Wait," I gasped. "Wait."

He paused, his lips brushing the corner of my jaw. My heart pounded erratically, painfully aware of his hands pressing my body flush against his.

If he did this — if he did this, after last night, with all the feelings I'd suddenly gotten stuck with — if he did what he was about to do, I didn't think I would recover. There was no alcohol to excuse us now, no way to avoid this becoming real.

"Why should I?" he asked lowly. The room was empty, and it was just the two of us in the dim corner near our table. My chest heaved with unexpected tension. He let out another torturously slow laugh. "Did you want to apologize, Hanna dearest?"

I laughed lightheadedly, too wound up to really appreciate the name. "Dearest?" I repeated, still dazed. "Sounds like a bit of an exaggeration, don't you think?"

He drew back to look me in the eyes, taking in my stunned features. That smirk was back.

"What makes you think I'm exaggerating?"

I lost my breath again, pulse quickening. The sound of two people arguing echoed from somewhere down the hall, but I couldn't pay attention. Rian's eyes momentarily flicked downward, to my lips. I bit the bottom one out of instinct, releasing it when I saw the hunger in his gaze. He leaned forward infinitesimally, just enough to ask permission, and I could feel every agonized breath he took against my skin, in my bones.

"Can I?" he murmured, seeming as entranced as I was.

This was it. There was no coming back from this, because I was going to say yes. There was no doubt in my mind now. I wanted so very badly to say yes, even if the effects were irreversible. I wanted — I wanted him.

I opened my mouth. His eyes dropped to my lips.

"You damn kerfunkle!"

Rian blinked. My mouth shut in confusion. That screech hadn't been me.

Two middle-aged adults stormed into the room, a horde of dogs following them. Rian and I broke apart faster than I thought possible, shooting to our feet. My face burned.

The arguing pair glanced over at us, startled. Whatever conflict they'd been having died abruptly. One of them, a stern-looking heavyset woman with skin the colour of chocolate, spotted the reminiscent pink on our cheeks. She raised an eyebrow.

Then she took a closer look at me, her eyes widening.

"No," she said, squinting. "Can't be. Hanna Jordan?"

My head snapped up from where I'd been awkwardly staring at the floor. The woman walked over to us, looking me up and down. I shrunk away from her searching gaze, the heat in my cheeks intensifying. I felt Rian look over at me questioningly, but my emotions from a second ago were still too raw for me to look back.

One of the dogs at her feet, a baby samoyed, tottered up to me and pawed at my legs. I felt a near-uncontrollable urge to pet it. I just barely managed to hold myself still as the woman continued to study me.

"I'm right." She nodded to herself, amazed. "You're really her."

I rubbed the back of my head awkwardly. "Uh, yes," I said politely, unsure how to proceed. "I don't mean to be rude, miss, but . . . do I know you?"

She stared a second. Then she started laughing.

I stuck my hands in my pockets, scuffing the floor with the toe of my boot awkwardly. The woman had doubled over now, slapping her knee with mirth. The other adult who'd walked in with her—a tall, pale man—surveyed the scene curiously.

A scowl began to creep over my face. She was still going at it, her hair coming loose from its tightly knit bun. I'd been flustered when she walked in, sure, but wasn't this going a bit too far?

"Excuse me," I interrupted more harshly, stepping forward. I wasn't in the mood for this. "Get a hold of yourself, please. Do you know me or not?"

The woman took a few moments to straighten, a broad smirk on her lips. "Now that's the little Ms. Jordan I remember," she said, amused. "That whole polite thing you had goin' on was hilarious."

My scowl deepened. "Who are you?" I asked bluntly, foregoing pleasantries altogether.

She reached down and petted the samoyed pawing at my calf. "I work here, Ms. Jordan. I've been a manager at Branbury for the past fifteen years." She glanced back up at me, searching my face for recognition. "And I have a particularly good memory for troublemakers."

I furrowed my brow. "Troublemakers . . . ?" I trailed off, and the woman quirked an eyebrow.

"It's only been three years," she added. "Did you already forget all the havoc you wreaked in this building?"

My mouth dropped open in shock. Rian's comment from before ran through my mind: hope that the staff didn't remember me, because my constant pranking had made their lives hell.

And now, apparently, I was face to face with their manager.

The dog at my feet barked and nudged his head against my shin. In an effort to avoid the woman's probing gaze, I crouched down and scratched behind its ears. It released a happy little howl, rubbing its head against my palm.

I glanced back up at her, embarrassed. "Right. I'm—um. I'm sorry about that," I offered, though the apology was weak. I'd actually really enjoyed messing with everyone in this place, and judging by the raised eyebrow on Ms. Manager's face, she knew it too.

She barked out another short laugh, turning to her coworker. "Henry, this is the girl you heard all those stories about. The one who managed to set the pool on fire."

The pale man's eyes widened. "This is her?" He took a few small steps forward, leaning over to study me inquisitively. I rolled my eyes—I wasn't a zoo exhibit.

He nudged the woman again, talking like I wasn't even in the room. "But she's so small!" he hissed.

The woman glanced over at him sharply. I stiffened. Behind me, I heard Rian let out a low, ominous whistle.

The other dogs in the room seemed to notice the tension, and a few of them barked as I straightened up. I looked the man in the eye, allowing a sharp-toothed smile to cross my face.

"What was that, Henry?" I asked, my voice deceptively soft.

Ms. Manager shook her head in resignation, taking half a step backwards. The pale-skinned man raised his eyebrows insolently, apparently not noticing the shift in atmosphere.

"You're real small is all I'm saying," he repeated, eyeing me in disbelief.

I tilted my head, trying to keep my temper in check. I owed these people something for tolerating my antics all those years, didn't I?

"I can assure you—" I began, but the idiot cut me off again.

"Like, you're not even up to my shoulders, you know?" he interjected stupidly, gesturing between the two of us. "It takes a bit of smarts, or at least strength, to set a pool on fire. I just don't get how such a . . . little thing like you coulda done it." He paused, subtly looking down his nose at me. "No disrespect, of course. Miss."

I gazed up at him impassively. The snideness in his tone was unmistakeable. I decided my debt to this place could wait.

"How old are you, Henry?" I asked coolly.

He blinked, probably not expecting the question. "Ahem," he coughed, glancing over at his manager derisively. "I really don't see how that's—"

"See, my guess would be mid-forties. Maybe late thirties if time hasn't been kind to you, which I can guarantee it hasn't."

His face reddened. "Now listen here, missy—"

My annoyed tsk stopped him mid-sentence. I slid my hands back into my pockets, my gaze unflinching.

"Forty years of life, and what are you?" I mused. "A janitor at an overblown community centre? A waste of space, arguing to put down a bunch of homeless dogs?" I asked, referencing the bits of the argument I'd heard him and Ms. Manager having earlier.

He sputtered, appalled, before his lip began to curl into a malicious sneer. I beat him to the punch, raising a scornful eyebrow.

"So I'd appreciate it if you kept your opinions to yourself, Henry." I lazily gestured to his spindly, dull-eyed figure. "Especially when the topic is smarts or strength, neither of which you seem to possess."

I finished with a sugary-sweet smile in his direction, the bite in my words undisguised. He glared at me, thoroughly humiliated now, and glanced over at his coworker. When she neglected to react, he scoffed.

"I just feel sorry for anyone who has to deal with you," he blurted, his tone turning nasty. "We've all heard the stories, you know."

I rolled my eyes. This was clearly a pathetic attempt at redemption. "Come on, Rian," I called, stepping towards the door. "Let's go."

Henry donned a vile smirk. "Oh, you don't care?" he taunted. "Then I guess it's no wonder your whole family is dead."

I froze, mid-step. My gaze swung to his smug face, feeling a bout of nausea roil my stomach.

No wonder your whole family is dead.

An aching pain bloomed in my chest. Stabs of fiery-hot agony began to pierce my right side, and my hand moved to grip my ribcage. His snide smile broadened when he saw he struck a chord.

Then his smile turned red.

I blinked. It took me a second to realize the redness was blood, dribbling from his broken nose.

Rian had punched him in the face.

He now held him by the collar, shoved up against the wall. The lady manager was scrabbling around, yelling something, but pure rage painted Rian's features. I was too stunned to focus on anything but him.

"Say that again," Rian dared him, his grip on the man's shirt tightening. The man looked terrified. "Say it, you piece of shit. I'll send you into early fucking retirement."

The harsh words spurred me back to life, and I sprang into action. I silenced the manager's yells with a look, reaching over to touch Rian's arm.

"Rian," I said gently. He tensed when my fingers landed on his skin, but he didn't release the man. "It's fine. This idiot can say whatever he wants. It doesn't mean it's true."

"Doesn't mean he should get to walk away from it, either," he growled back.

He leaned forward and put pressure on the man's neck, watching his face go red with the lack of air. A little more desperate now, I tugged on Rian's sleeve.

"Come on, Haltie," I said imploringly, attempting a playful tone. I tried my best to hide the tremor in my voice, but the stiffness in Rian's shoulders betrayed he'd noticed. "Let's just go home."

He glared into the man's face for a few moments longer. Right when I began to believe he'd simply punch him in the face again, Rian released the collar with disgust. I let out a breath of relief.

Ms. Manager—whose name I soon learned was Mabel—chewed the guy out for a full five minutes before handing him a towel for his nose.

He skulked out, shoulders hunched, too afraid to make eye contact with Rian or me.

The dogs were going crazy, barking at anything that moved. Mabel was standing by the door, with Rian and I sitting side-by-side on a small bench.

It was a relief that we'd come early in the day, when not many people were at the Hall. Otherwise, Mabel said, we could have gotten in a lot more trouble.

"You really haven't changed," she said to me, crossing her arms in disapproval. "This is exactly the kind of thing you'd pull three years ago. Be grateful it didn't devolve into a full-blown brawl."

I smiled sheepishly in response. "Sorry," I murmured.

There was something comforting about Mabel's gruff frankness, and I couldn't keep a quiet chuckle from escaping me.

Mabel glared for a second longer. Then she cut her eyes to Rian. "And you," she said, sounding almost impressed. "I didn't even recognize you because you seem so different. Used to be so quiet and all. You really grew into yourself, huh?"

Rian clenched his jaw. He'd been glaring holes into the door the man had left through and didn't seem to notice her question. Mabel sighed.

"Well, Henry overstepped first, so I'll try my best to keep this under wraps," she offered, smiling wryly. "It's good to see that you two are still such close friends, given . . . everything that happened."

I tensed, ready for another jab, but Mabel noticed my shift in attitude and patted me on the shoulder. She didn't pursue the topic, which I appreciated immensely.

Instead, she glanced around the disheveled room, sighing again. The four dogs were barking like mad, and the samoyed from before kept trying to crawl into my lap. It was a welcome distraction, and I eagerly scooped it up into my arms.

"That one likes you," she observed. I grinned happily, and the puppy let out a small bark.

"I love dogs," I told her. "I always wanted one, but —" I swallowed, a sudden lump in my throat. "But my dad was allergic."

Mabel nodded, thankfully sparing me the usual pity. She gestured to the other three dogs in the room, creasing her forehead. "This bunch was hiding out behind the building, eating kitchen scraps for over a month," she explained. "A horde of strays isn't exactly great for business, so Henry wanted to have them put down."

I scowled. "What a dick," I muttered.

Mabel cracked a smile, leaning forward conspiratorially. "He's in charge of the cleaning team, and he didn't wanna deal with their droppings. Your guess wasn't that far off." She began tightening her bun. "Which is probably why he snapped after you called him a janitor."

Rian came back to life, glancing over at me. He still seemed displeased with the situation, but the corner of his lips curved upwards.

"Remind me never to make you angry," he drawled.

I grinned at him. "I could tell you that a hundred times and you'd still piss me off."

He idly wrapped a strand of my hair around his finger. "You're probably right," he mused. "Your temper is certainly something to be feared." He stopped to smirk at me. "Short body, short fuse, I suppose."

My mouth dropped open. I punched him on the arm, but he just laughed. He rubbed the spot where I'd hit with feigned hurt. "Ow?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Short? That's practically the same thing the dick-janitor said to me!"

His smirk widened. He tugged on my hair teasingly.  "Well, it's different when I say it."

"How?"

"I'm special."

I faltered, and he took the opportunity to glance at Mabel like nothing had even happened. Scowling, I slowly did the same. She was looking between the two of us, squinting in confusion.

"No," she said disbelievingly, then with a hint of satisfaction. "Did you two finally—"

A loud howl from the samoyed in my arms interrupted her. We all looked over in surprise as the puppy pawed at me, ears twitching adorably.

"Aw, what is it?" I asked, scratching its head. It barked happily at the touch. "You just want attention, huh? You're so cute. Cute cute cute."

Rian huffed, letting go of the strand of hair he'd been playing with. I didn't notice, too wrapped up with the precious creature sitting in my lap.

"I guess he's imprinted on you," Mabel suggested. She paused, mulling over her next words. "You know, we need to get these dogs off the property, and I don't want 'em euthanized." She nodded at the samoyed I was holding. "You mind taking that one home with you?"

My head shot up in shock. "Do I mind?" I practically shouted, clutching the dog to my chest. "I would love to adopt this little guy!"

Rian muttered something unintelligible under his breath, but I paid him no attention. Mabel chuckled at my eager response.

"That's great, then," she said, nodding. "Now we just have to find homes for the rest of them."

Rian eyed the one I had in my lap skeptically. His gaze flicked to mine. "I sincerely hope you don't plan on bringing that thing to my place," he said irritatedly.

I frowned. "That thing?" I echoed, appalled. I held up the samoyed to his face, its little dangling paws blocking out Rian's scowl. "Look at him! Isn't he the single most lovely thing you've ever seen?"

Rian's scowl deepened. "No."

I lowered the dog, my lips settling into a displeased pout. "Well, if this guy isn't, then what the heck is?"

He studied me a moment longer, eyes flicking down to my lips so fast I wasn't even sure it happened. Then he glanced away.

"I don't know," he responded pettily. "I just know it isn't that."

I clutched the dog back to my chest, returning his scowl. "Too bad for you, then. You're stuck with me, and that means you're stuck with him."

I raised the dog in the air again, thinking back to that one scene from The Lion King. Rian looked on incredulously.

"I hereby dub thee . . ." I paused to think, a grin spreading over my face when it hit me. "Siggy!"

Rian raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "What the hell kind of name is that?" he asked scornfully.

I smirked at him, cuddling the dog to my chest once more. "You tell me, Mr. Psych Major," I taunted. "Siggy is short for Sigmund Freud."

His mouth dropped open. This time, it was my turn to glance back at Mabel, smugly ignoring Rian's shock, as well as his ensuing scowl.

Mabel eyed his glaring face, then looked over at me. She nodded slowly, grimacing.

"Ah," she murmured sagely. "I see what's happening here."

She walked over to pat Rian on the back, eliciting a confused frown from me. "Good luck, kid," she muttered gravely. Rian chuckled bitterly in response.

I watched the exchange perplexedly, but Mabel moved away before I could ask about it. She scooped up a russell terrier, frowning.

"Still don't know what to do with these guys, though," she admitted resignedly. "Know anyone willing to adopt a few dogs?"

I considered the request. A slow grin stretched across my face. "Yeah," I responded mischievously. "I think I may know a guy."

♛

Rian and I returned home half an hour later, Siggy still cradled in my arms. We'd stopped at a nearby pet shop to pick up dog food and supplies, with Rian grumbling the entire time.

He scowled as I set my new dog down, watching the adorable creature totter around the apartment with glee.

"You and I are gonna be best friends, Sig," I murmured excitedly. "You'll love having me as a roommate."

Rian snorted derisively, striding past me and deftly tossing his jacket on the coat hook. "I highly doubt that," he drawled grumpily. "And I'm an expert on the topic, believe me."

I ignored him, instead focusing on setting up a corner for Siggy. By the time I was done, Rian had collapsed on the couch and was glaring at the dog now pawing at his leg.

"Don't be cute," he muttered, trying to edge his leg away, but the samoyed simply followed. "I get enough of that from your owner. I don't need it from you too."

I put out water and food in bowls, heading over to the kitchen. Sunlight still streamed in through the windows. I listened to the patter of Siggy's feet as he went over to his corner to eat, feeling a smile spread over my face.

"What's got you so happy?" Rian grumbled from behind me, and I jumped.

I threw a glare in his direction. "Make some noise when you walk, please," I mumbled, grabbing a few plates. "Trying to give me a heart attack or something?"

"I can think of plenty of ways to do that," he drawled, leaning with his back to the counter. "Scaring you is not one of them."

I huffed, busying myself with gathering supplies. "I'm making lunch," I informed him, reaching up to his cupboard.

A cupboard that was six feet in the air.

My lips pursed. I stretched my arm, standing on my tiptoes, but my fingers remained just out of reach of the handle. I gritted my teeth, very aware of Rian watching me amusedly.

"Let me—" he began.

"No," I insisted. "I've got it."

I hopped up onto the counter, my thigh brushing Rian's hip as I kneeled on the marble surface. I opened the cabinet door and withdrew the canister I wanted, grinning triumphantly.

I sat back down, turning so my legs dangled off the counter's edge. Rian was covering his mouth with one hand, trying not to laugh.

"What?" I protested. "I got it, didn't I?"

He smirked and opened his mouth to respond. Before he could, however, a bark from the floor interrupted us. I looked down.

"Siggy!" I greeted happily. He barked in response, pawing at Rian's leg.

I extended my arms, glancing hopefully at Rian's scowling face. He saw my outstretched hands and rolled his eyes, picking the dog up and placing it in my lap annoyedly.

"Thank you, Haltie," I hummed, scratching behind Siggy's ears. Rian observed the movement, his scowl deepening.

"Dogs aren't that great," he said suddenly, a dark glare marring his brow. "Why would you even want one?"

I gasped, covering the dog's ears. "He didn't mean that, buddy," I murmured, before turning to glare at the lithops in front of me.

"How can you say that? Dogs are life!"

"They shed and cost money," he argued irritably. "And they take up unnecessary space. They make too much noise and can't even . . . take care of themselves . . ." Rian slowed to a stop, frowning. "Actually, I can see why you like them. They're a lot like you."

I scowled, feeling my anger rear its head. "I do not shed."

He scowled back. "This isn't even your apartment. If you want a pet so bad, why not — oh, I don't know — leave my house?"

"Because."

"Because what?"

I glared up at him fiercely. "Just because. I don't wanna."

He moved so he was standing in front of me, my position on the counter allowing him to step between my legs. He leaned forward menacingly, arms braced on either side of my body.

"I may not have used force to get rid of you last time," he growled. "But now that you've brought this creature into my home, I'm having second thoughts."

I raised my chin defiantly. "Use force then," I dared him. "I wasn't joking about biting you."

"You — what?"

"Go ahead and use force," I repeated. I arched my neck, pointing to the mark hidden beneath the collar of my blouse. His gaze darkened upon seeing it. "I still have to get you back for this, after all."

Siggy whined when Rian drew closer, apparently sensing the impending threat. He wiggled out of my grasp, hopping to the floor and tottering away. Rian and I continued our staring contest.

"Get me back?" Rian returned ominously, his glare absolute. "Now who's having memory problems? You—bit—me—first."

I crossed my arms. "So what? You bit me harder."

He groaned deeply, and I jolted when I felt the vibrations through the counter. "You're impossible!" he exclaimed frustratedly. "Impossible, insufferable, intolerable, unbearable—"

"You're no angel either!" I shot back crossly. "You're the most maddening person I've ever met! And that's coming from me!"

"You have no sense!"

"You make no sense!"

"God, you're unbelievable," he muttered testily. His jaw clenched as he glared at me. "Unbelievable."

"You're just a walking thesaurus, aren't you, Haltie?"

His obsidian gaze glowed with black fire, studying my upturned face. "There's only one way to shut you up, isn't there?"

I cocked an eyebrow incredulously. "And what way is tha—"

He moved so quickly I didn't get the chance to finish. Because, suddenly and without warning, he was kissing me.

Kissing me.

I forgot how to breathe.

One of his hands slid up to cup my face while the other yanked me forward on the counter, planted on the small of my back. My hands had pressed against his chest in shock, frozen by the sheer impossibility of this moment.

For a second, I stayed stock-still, eyes wide with surprise.

Then I squeezed them shut, fervently moving my lips against his. My legs clamped on either side of him, my entire body pressed flush against his torso. He made a guttural, markedly possessive sound low in his throat. The reverberations made my toes curl.

It was not a friendly kiss. It was not gentle, not soft — his hand on my back slid upwards, elegant fingers digging into the sensitive flesh. My grip on his shoulders was the only thing keeping me grounded as he brutally swept me away, the hand on my jaw angling my face to match his every achingly, deliciously forceful movement.

You dared him to use force. He listened.

My lungs burned for air, but I didn't pay them any attention. Instead, I reached up to tangle my fingers in his hair — in those impossibly soft, so-black-they're-almost-blue locks, desperate for more. My back arched under his wandering touch, my lips electric and my every muscle straining for attention.

He kissed me, and he owned me.

Finally, we broke apart. My chest heaved with each breath, my eyes slowly fluttering open. Every nerve in my body sang with tension as our breath mingled, still far too close to one another for comfort.

I never wanted to be comfortable again.

My gaze shot to meet his when the pad of his thumb dragged over my swollen red lips. His tongue ran over his own voraciously.

I shivered, both entranced and intimidated: he looked like he'd just sampled the fucking forbidden fruit.

And now he wanted more.

"Unorthodox," he murmured suddenly, jarring me back to the present, "but effective, I suppose."

I blinked confusedly, my senses still thoroughly confounded. "What?"

He laughed lowly, the sound travelling down my spine. It was a devil's laugh, through and through.

"Well," he answered, smirking. "You've stopped arguing, haven't you?"

I froze for a moment, my spent system trying to process his words. Then a scowl bloomed over my face, my cheeks reddening in embarrassment.

He was right — I couldn't even remember what we'd been arguing about. Not that I was going to tell him that.

"Let me go, you fucking pisse-froid."

I pushed on his chest, irritated by how affected I was by his proximity and his sheer goddamn attractiveness. He chuckled and released me, his fingers on my lips lingering just a second longer than the rest of him.

"Anything for the belle of the ball," he drawled, crossing his arms smugly.

I glared daggers as I hopped off the counter, stomping out of the kitchen. My face burned, my heart pounded, my mind whirled.

One kiss had done this to me. One fucking kiss was all it took, and I was a mess.

Siggy barked as I grabbed my coat off the hook, swinging it over my shoulders angrily. I glanced over at him, apologetic for a moment because I couldn't take him with me. Then Rian spoke up, and my fury roared back.

"Where are you going?" he asked, watching me head to the foyer.

"Out," I growled, my face still hot. I yanked open the door, throwing one last glare over my shoulder at him.

He was standing there, arrogantly leaning against the counter, obsidian eyes gleaming. He was more than wicked. He was downright villainous.

The door slammed shut behind me, his devilish laughter following me out into the hall. I didn't even know where I was going; I just knew it was away from him.

I groaned, digging my fingers into my hair agitatedly.

What the hell had I gotten myself into?