Hook sure as fuck does.
Not that I’ve noticed. I’ve spent too much time determined not to notice.
I plant my hands on my hips and glare. Anger is the only thing I have left, but fortunately for me, the depths of my rage remain unplumbed when it comes to the man watching me with that glint in his dark eyes. I have to do something, say something, because standing here staring at him sends waves after waves of feelings through me that I am not prepared to deal with. Not today. Not ever.
My soul hates Hook. My body hasn’t gotten the memo. But then, my desires always did get me into trouble. The difference is that now I know enough to tell the difference between lust and something as ill-advised as falling in love with the wrong person.
I shove the thought away. The past may lie in this room, thick enough to choke on, but I won’t be the one to bring it up. “You know, normal people can take a hint. If not a hint, then my explicitly telling you to fuck off more times than I can count in the last five years.”
“You wound me.” He presses both hands to his chest.
Against my better judgement, I follow the movement to where his white T-shirt hugs his defined pectoral muscles. I jerk my gaze back to his face. “Not as thoroughly as I’d like to.”
His grin is quick, a flash of white teeth against his neatly trimmed beard. It’s gone before I can fully register its impact, leaving him serious. “There’s trouble, Tink. Big trouble.”
“I don’t care.”
“Yes, you do. If not about me, then about this.” He hesitates, a pause barely long enough to allow me to brace for what I know is coming. Sure enough, Hook pulls my deepest fears forth and puts them into words. “He’s making moves to take the territory back.”
I desperately don’t want to talk about this, to admit I know exactly who he’s talking about, but denial has never been my strong suit. If there’s one thing Hook and I share, and one thing only, it’s the boogeyman stuffed into our respective closets. The man who’s left scars on both our body and souls.
It’s still no excuse for Hook’s sins.
It’s no excuse for mine, either.
I look away. I have to. “I don’t see what that has to do with me.”
“Really?” His dry tone cuts me directly to the bone. “You don’t think it’s the strangest coincidence that your contract with Hades is coming to a close and now is the time he’s stirring up a coup? You’re smarter than that.”
The urge to flop onto the bed between us and bury my head in the pillows almost takes me to my knees. I don’t want this. I don’t want the responsibility Hook seems determined to lay at my feet. I don’t want to be dragged kicking and screaming into the past I fought so hard to leave behind.
Apparently I didn’t fight hard enough. Or run far enough.
It’s cowardly to turn away, but I don’t care. “It’s not my problem.”
“I see,” he says slowly. “Are you saying that black eye you had not too long ago had nothing to do with Peter?”
I spin to face him. I didn’t mean to react, but no one was supposed to know about that. Either Meg had talked—unlikely—or Hook had been watching me more closely than I realized. “Stalker much?”
“Don’t do that.”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do.” No one does. Not anymore. Yes, Hades technically owns my contract, and I may not like him even the smallest bit, but no one in the Underworld expects me to bow and flinch and keep my head down like the nearly-broken creature I was when I threw myself on Hades’s dubious mercy.
The people here let me find my feet. They gave me the space to figure out who I was and learn to make no apologies for it. The thought of what Hook is asking me …
Wait. What is he asking me?
I can’t do this. Reacting emotionally won’t accomplish anything. Easy enough to realize that. Much harder to stuff all my messy feelings deep down until I’m able to face him again. I’ve never mastered the icy thing the way some people have, but I still try. “You’re here for a reason.”
His dark gaze flicks over my face before he nods slowly. “I’m here for a reason.”
I wait. As difficult as it is to hold my questions, I force myself to do it. He came to me. He can be the one to break this stifling silence that stretches between us like taffy. Sticky and binding and horrible.
Finally, Hook curses. “There’s no easy way to say this.”
“Then say it the hard way.”
“I can give you what you need.”
I blink. If I’d allowed myself to anticipate his next words, those wouldn’t even have made the list. “What are you talking about?”