Wicked
Page 23

Before he moved, I placed the very pointy end against his throat, right over a very important artery. "Role reversal, bitch."
Ren let his arms fall to the mattress as he stared at me through impossibly thick lashes. "That move was really kind of hot."
I narrowed my eyes.
"You really are Merida."
"Who in the hell is Merida?"
One side of his mouth kicked up again. "The chick from the movie Brave with—"
"The frizzy red hair. Got it. Thanks. I'm seriously going to stab you."
"She didn't have frizzy hair," he argued. "And besides, she was hot."
I stared down at him. "You think a Disney character is hot?"
"Have you seen some of those Disney characters?"
"She was not hot. She's like the least hot of all Disney characters." I hadn't seen the movie, but I remember catching glimpses of it. The chick didn't even have boobs. Why couldn't he say I reminded him of Ariel or something?
Then again, Ariel was kind of stupid, giving up her voice for a dude.
His brows lifted. "She could kick ass, therefore she was hot."
My fingers tightened on the stake. Okay. So Merida was a badass, and I guessed that was better than saying I reminded him of Belle, the Stockholm victim, and now I was oddly flattered. "This conversation has taken a weird turn."
"Yeah," he drawled lazily, and then moved his arms. I tensed, but he didn't move to grab me. He lifted his head and pressed the vulnerable section of his neck against the stake, carefully folding his arms behind his head. "It has."
Annoyed at his lack of fear and concern, I scowled at him. "Comfy?"
His grin spread, turning downright wicked. "Very."
"Don't call me Merida anymore." Using my other hand, I pressed down on the center of his chest, then kind of wished I hadn't. Good Lord that was one hard chest. Did he have pecs? He totally had pecs. My gaze darted to his right arm, to the extraordinary tattoo for a brief second before I met his stare.
Ren appeared to consider my order. "Since you asked nicely, I won't do it again, but you can call me whatever you want."
"Are you hitting on me?" Shocked, I shook my head. "Are you for real?"
"My momma probably thinks I'm real."
I ignored that. "While I have a stake at your throat?"
"You're also sitting on me, and sweetness, if you slide about an inch or so down, things are going to get real awkward."
Holy shit.
"Or fun," he added, and his lips did that slow curl again, like he savored the whole process of smiling. "I told you I found that move you made to be fucking hot. But I don't think you're going to be down for that."
That unsettled feeling returned, and I didn't like it, didn't even know what to do with it, so I dismissed it and his comment. Needing to pull this conversation back to what was important, I focused. "Why are you here, Ren?"
"I told you. I needed to talk to you, and I didn't really want to wait." He wet his lower lip, and that action, for a second, snagged my attention. "I probably should've. I can see you didn't like my impromptu visit, but I'm going to be a good boy and just lay here."
Based on the way his green eyes glimmered, I doubted he knew how to be a good boy.
"I know you're pissed at me," he added, and I frowned at him. "Not just over this, but because of tonight."
I curled the fingers of my free hand around the collar of his black shirt. Pissed wasn't an accurate description of how I felt. "I know what I saw Wednesday night."
"I haven't said you didn't."
"You were all chatty Thursday night, but you didn't say anything to David. You made me look like a fool."
"I also didn't make you look like anything," he replied. "However, I do remember clearly telling you that David wouldn't think there was an ancient here."
"You did absolutely nothing to back me up last night."
He tilted his head to the side, completely unfazed by the dagger I had at his throat. "Why would I?"
Whoa. Startled by his blunt honesty, my grip on his shirt loosened. "Wow." That was all I could say. "You are something else."
He blinked those damn lashes, surprised, and finally that cocky smile faded. "You don't understand."
"Of course not. It's okay that almost the entire Order thinks I overreacted or made it up. Worse yet, they probably think I'm losing my mind or something," I said, and no sooner had those words left my mouth when the truth of my expectations smacked me upside the head.
I knew exactly why I expected Ren to have my back earlier tonight. Because Shaun would have. No matter what craziness I'd get myself involved in, he had my back. Thinking that Ren would, because of Shaun, was the height of ridiculousness. I'd known Shaun for almost all my life and Ren only a handful of hours. I just didn't understand why I thought a stranger would be like Shaun, but I did recognize that was a huge flaw inside me.
"Whatever," I finally said. "It's not your responsibility to step in. I lost my cool with Trent and ran my mouth. That's my fault."
"But you said Trent already knew," he challenged. "Don't you find that strange?"
I shook my head. "No. I think Harris has an even bigger mouth than Trent and me combined."