Chapter 0212

“God no,” I say, hastily sticking out my tongue to let him know precisely what I think about that idea. “Just,” I tilt my head,

considering. “This house is gigantic, and I haven’t seen half of it — and I just found out that there’s a secret passage to the

dungeons in the back of my wardrobe, so,” I shrug. “I just want to know what else is in the Lippert House of Mysteries. To begin,

do you have a gym where you spend many hours lifting weights? Or is this physique the result of...I don’t know. Beating people

up in back allies?”

Kent laughs at me, shaking his head. But then he surprises me by pulling my body close so that I’m pressed tight against him, as

if he doesn’t want any space between us at all. “I have a gym, Fay,” he tells me quietly. “No back alley beat-downs. I’m past that

part of my life. The gym is private — just mine. It’s in that corridor that you just passed through, behind one of those grey doors. It

can only be accessed through the door in this room, and — well, the door in the back of your wardrobe. Which I suppose counts

as an entrance, now that you know about it.”

“You know that’s weird, right,” I ask, looking up into his face, my eyebrows raised. “That it’s weird that you had a secret entrance

to my room this whole time and never told me? What, did you like, sneak in and...”

Kent laughs then, shaking his head at me. “No, Fay,” he scolds, but I can tell he’s amused more than offended. “I never snuck in

and watched you sleep. I’m not a pervert.”

I raise one eyebrow at him, skeptical, and he laughs harder, but moves in to kiss me.

Before he can, though, I swat him away.

“Wha-* he says, surprised when I scootch away from him, brandishing my book like a defensive weapon.

“No way, Kent!” I protest. “You don’t just get to wipe away all of my anger with really good sex, and then throw books at me to

distract me, and expect all of the reasons for that anger to go away as well!”

I see a smirk form on his lips, telling me that was indeed what he was hoping would happen. I hold up a scolding finger and point

it at his face. “I admit,” I continue, “it was a good plan. It almost worked. But we have to talk.”

“Fine, Fay,” Kent murmurs, grabbing the offending finger in his gigantic hand and bringing my hand close to his face to kiss it

before releasing me. “We'll talk. I know why I was pissed off tonight,” he says, his habitual glower coming back to his face as he

and I remember — perhaps simultaneously — my little stolen moment with Ivan. “Why are you?”