Fangs, Fate & Other Bad Decisions novel Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Why did I do that?

Seriously, why did I just invite the world’s bossiest billionaire inside like we’re some sort of functional couple winding down after a date night? I’m obviously losing it.

1 should’ve let the car drive away, said goodnight with a snarky quip, and bolted for the front door like a sane person. But nooo. I invited him in, like I’m normal and this is a thing.

He walks in behind me like he owns the air molecules, and I’m suddenly aware that my house smells like the Lavender fabric softener I use when I pretend to be an adult who folds laundry on time.

I pause to kick my shoes off, and in the next moment, he’s behind me, slipping his jacket from my shoulders, his fingertips fightly tracing a river of fire from my neck and down to my shoulders. Shit.

As he throws it on the back of the couch, I quickly get rid of the medieval torture devices on my feet and head to the kitchen. One, so I can get some distance from this man who undoes me with a single touch, and two, so I can pour us some wine.

Grabbing two glasses, I top them up with wine left over from a late–night series marathon last week, and then hand him one as I pass him on my way back to the living room

Currently, my couch is perpendicular to the TV, and if either of us wants to sit on it to watch something, we’ll both end up with a crick in our necks, so I stroll over to the front of the couch closest to the TV and try pushing it backwards so we won’t be at such an odd angle when we sit down.

He sees I’m struggling with the heavy piece of furniture, comes over, places his hand on the couch’s arm, and then uses minimal effort to push it into the position I’m looking for.

1 gape at him, then a the

couch, then at him again. I blink, and then say, “…Okay, that’s not normal.

He shrugs, as if moving a 120–pound leather couch is as easy as pushing a lock of hair out of my eyes, saying, “You started the momentum for

I cross my arms and scowl at him as I say, “I did not.”

“Maybe I work out?” he replies as he cocks a brow at me.

“Maybe you’re a Superman–wannabe with a gym membership,” I sarcastically say and then drop the subject. My brain is too tired to try to figure out if he’s on steroids or if my couch was being an asshole by refusing to move when I tried it.

I plop onto the couch like it’s a trap I’ve laid for myself, and he follows when I pat the skat next to me and ask, “Movie?”

“I don’t watch much TV,” he says, swirling the wine in his glass.

“Of course nut. I forgot, you’re too busy brooding in your tower and doing rich people things.”

With a slight smirk, he looks at me and asks, “Such as?”

“Clutching your stock portfolio like a Victorian lady with pearls,” I say with a deadpan expression, then lean towards the coffee table and grab the

remme.

I choose something dumb and safe–a chaotic space comedy with a talking raccoon and zero romantic tension. This is my version of keeping all the lights on in the room and sitting on a completely different couch.

And for a while, it works,

We watch. Sometimes he reacts with little huffs that might pass for amusement if it were anyone but Mr. Tall, Dark, and Sulky next to me, when I laugh too hard at something stupid. He doesn’t move away when I shift closer, trying to pretend I’m not doing it on purpose.

Eventually, I lean against him, and he doesn’t flinch or stiffen. He just…..lets me.

I’m warm, I’m safe, and suddenly I’m tired.

Chapter 31

The last thing I remember is the rhythm of his breathing, and the low m rmur of his voice as lie whispers…“You undo me.”

I wake up to a stiff neck, a dead arm, and the terrifying realization that I fell asleep on Thane fucking Droeven.

He’s still here. Sitting up beside me, still in his black shirt, sleeves rolled up, his jawline doing that thing where I want to hate it but also maybe want to trace it with my tongue. His head is tilted hack on the couch’s backrest, eyes closed. But I know better,

He’s awake and has been for a while. He probably heard my heartbeat spike the second I realized I was still curled against him like some clingy sleep koala.

“Fall asleep on me?” he finishes, opening one eye as he rolls his head towards me,

“No,” I le, “I meant to do that. It was a power move.

He cocks his eyebrow at me, and then does something that has me drooling, Merely. He stretches, like a panther, sleek and powerful, able to devour me without much effort. “Did it work?” he asks, ripping me from my imaginary sexcapades.

“I should probably feed you,” 1 mutter, standing abruptly and running a hand through my chaotic hair. “Do billionaires ent toast? No judgment if they don’L

“I’m good,” he starts as he stands tou, only slower, as if testing the air between us. “But I was thinking, maybe we don’t end the night just yet.”

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