Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 120562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 603(@200wpm)___ 482(@250wpm)___ 402(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 603(@200wpm)___ 482(@250wpm)___ 402(@300wpm)
Stood at the island, Levi looked up from where he was opening the square box. “I thought you quit your job.”
So he’d been eavesdropping. “I did. Kelvin’s not taking my resignation seriously.”
“He will once you’re working at Urban Ink. Have you called Harper yet?”
Piper snorted. “Like you don’t already know the answer to that.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “She may have called to ask me some nosy-ass questions, and she may have also mentioned that she arranged for you to have an official interview tomorrow.”
“Drink?” Piper offered as she grabbed herself a bottle of water.
He perched his epic ass on a stool. “Water is fine.”
She set both bottles on the island, nabbed a slice of pizza, and then settled on the seat opposite him. Had she ever envisioned a scenario in which she’d be sharing a pizza with Levi Cutler in her kitchen? Nope. Not ever.
Deciding not to pry about whatever was bugging him until after they’d eaten, she instead asked, “Is Harper pissed on your behalf that I didn’t jump at forming the bond?” It would be better for Piper to know that before the interview.
His brow furrowed. “No. She wasn’t surprised, and she understands. She’s also confident you’ll come round.” He bit into his pizza. “After all, she knows from personal experience how hard it is to fight the pull of a psi-mate bond.”
It really was a pull. Piper felt it even now. It had been a background ‘pulse’ in her head all day. But now that he was here, the pull was stronger. Gah. “This isn’t you giving me time and space.”
“I gave you some.” He removed the cap from his water bottle. “Did you really think I’d stay away? That I’d be good with setting aside every right I have to you?” He gave a slow shake of his head. “I can agree to wait a little before we form the bond, but I won’t keep my distance. I won’t act like you’re anything other than my anchor.”
“You know, I’m surprised by how much you want this.”
“Why?”
She took a bite out of her pizza. “You’ve always seemed so self-sufficient to me. Like you don’t need anything or anyone.”
“You’re not ‘anyone.’ You’re my psi-mate. Maybe that doesn’t mean much to you, but it does to me.”
She gave him a look of disgust. “Quit with the emotional blackmail, that won’t work on me.”
His mouth curved. “It was worth a shot.”
God, he was going to be a handful. If she accepted the bond. Which she would eventually. It would be dumb to kid herself about that.
Between bites of pizza, they discussed mundane, everyday topics. Once the box was finally empty, she closed it and pushed it aside before asking, “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
He sighed. “It was a shitty day. You heard about Diem, I’m sure.”
“I did. Should I take it that you examined the scene?”
He nodded, his eyes wary.
“Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to try pumping you for details that I’m not privy to. I was just, you know, showing concern.”
“See, you’re good at this anchor stuff already.”
Set on avoiding that subject for now, she tilted her head. “I have a question, but I won’t be offended if you don’t want to answer.”
“Hit me with it.”
“Is it true that you were gifted with the death touch?” The ability was exclusive to reapers but could only be used once in their entire lives.
He drummed his fingers on the island. “Yes. And if your next question is have I ever used the ability, the answer is no.”
In his position, she wouldn’t use it either. Not that being able to take a life with a mere touch wouldn’t be seriously helpful in a dangerous situation. There was a massive cost, though—somewhere in the world, an innocent would die. Said innocent could be a stranger, a friend, a relative, anyone. They could be young, old, or even an unborn child. The death touch did not discriminate.
“I could never envision a situation in which I ever would use the ability,” said Levi. “But now that I have you in my life, well, I’m not so sure anymore.”
She tensed. “I wouldn’t want you to use it in my defense. You’d never forgive yourself for condemning an innocent to death.”
“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you safe. To hesitate to use the ability in an emergency would be to trade another person’s life for yours. That’s not something I’d do. I would never feel guilty for doing whatever it took to keep you alive. If that makes me selfish, it makes me selfish. I don’t much care. I figure if there’s anything I have the right to be selfish about, it’s my anchor.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re just going to keep spinning the conversation back to the matter of us being anchors, aren’t you?”