smile, “since you’re all just standing around here, not moving, arguing about corsets.”
East snorts a laugh, nearly choking on his drink. Maxton glances at all of us, amusement flickering in his haunted eyes. Arrow scratches his nose, I think to conceal a smile. Then he mutters, “She’s sort of right.”
Asher rolls his eyes then fastens his gaze on me. “You’ve got my cyborg wrapped around your little finger. Do you know that?”
I sneak another glance at Arrow. As I briefly lock eyes with him, images of what happened between us in the closet flash through my mind.
Before I start to blush, I look back at Asher. “I do not have him wrapped around my finger,” I insist, because I don’t want to have anyone wrapped around my finger. I want to have the kind of friendship where, if Arrow doesn’t want to do something that I want him to do, he won’t. I want to have the sort of friendship I didn’t have with Jason. Not that I had Jason wrapped around my finger. No, sadly, I think it was the other way around.
“You do, too,” Asher disagrees then downs his drink in one long gulp. “It’s fine, though. I think Arrow might like being wrapped around your finger.” When Arrow makes no effort to protest, Asher sets the glass down onto the counter and eyes me over. “As lovely as you look, you really do need to go put on a coat.”
I give him a salute then spin back around and hurry toward my room. The moment I’m out of their view, I release a shaky breath that I wasn’t even aware I was holding in. But holy intensity, that was a lot to take in—the looks they kept giving each other, and then the intense looks they kept giving me.
Hopefully, it’ll get easier, because I really do need to start breathing properly when I’m around them.
Crossing my fingers that’ll happen, I enter my room and start toward my closet when I hear footsteps from behind me. A second later, the scent of spun sugar engulfs me, letting me know East is right behind me.
“What? Can’t I go into my closet without an escort?” I joke as I peer over my shoulder at him.
He grins, splaying his fingers across the small of my back as he moves up behind me. “You could, but what’d be the fun in that?”
“It’d give me some alone time,” I quip with a grin. “Something I’m in desperate need of.”
“Is that true?” He seems genuinely interested.
I want to say yes just so he won’t get the upper hand of knowing I don’t like being alone. But the lie won’t leave my tongue, and he grins, totally pleased.
“You’re such a little liar,” he mocks then spins me around and dips his head, grazing his lips across mine. “Don’t worry, though; even your lies taste delicious.”
My knees shake a bit from his touch, and I place my palms against his chest to steady myself, only to discover that his heart is beating wildly, which is weird. East has always seemed like a calm creature.
“I don’t even know what that means,” I tell him.
He drags his teeth along his bottom lip. “It means, everything about you tastes delicious. Your scent … your skin …” He traces his fingers along the side of my arm, sliding them up to my shoulder then to the back of my neck. “You’re all sugar and sweetness. Makes me wonder what other parts of you taste like that.”
I blast him with a nasty look, but he just grins.
“Don’t pretend like you don’t want me to find that out, too, little mouse.” He dips his head and brushes his lips across mine. When he pulls back, he captures my bottom lip between his teeth and bites it gently. I let out a soft whimper, and he pulls back, smiling. “I think you like that.”
“No,” I try to lie, but then sigh, knowing my little whimper was proof that I did like it. “Fine. I did.”
Smiling, he slants in toward me. At first, I think he’s going to kiss me again and my stomach flutters with excitement. But he ends up moving his lips toward my ear, causing those flutters to fizzle with disappointment.
Thank gods he can’t hear what I’m thinking right now.
“You know, the more you tell me what you like, the better I can make you feel,” he whispers in my ear, his lips softly grazing my skin. “Like, for example, now