Kronos:Is that what you think this is?
Alex:What else would it be? You know who I am.
My hands were shaking now, and not just from the cold. I was pushing him away on purpose, throwing up walls before he could see how broken I really was. Before he decided I wasn’t worth the trouble after all. This way, I got to control when he left me.
Kronos:I know who you are, Alex. That’s why I want you with me tonight. As my date.
Date. Not hookup, not fuck buddy, not whatever casual arrangement I’d been pretending this was. He wanted more than I was capable of giving him.
Alex:I can’t do this.
I didn’t wait for his response. I shoved my phone deep into my pocket and started walking, needing to put distance between myself and everything. The snow was falling harder now, sticking to my hair and eyelashes, but I barely noticed.
I’d made it about three blocks when I heard the distinctive rumble of his motorcycle. Of course, he wouldn’t let me just walk away. That wasn’t his style.
The sleek black bike pulled up alongside me, its rider cutting an intimidating figure in dark leather. Kronos pushed up his visor, those silver eyes finding mine.
“Get on the bike, Alex.” His voice was calm, but I could hear the tension underneath.
“No.” I kept walking, refusing to look at him.
He revved the engine, keeping pace with me. “You’re going to freeze to death out here.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re wearing a t-shirt in winter.”
I hadn’t even noticed, but he was right. In my rush to get out of the shop, I hadn’t grabbed a coat. I was already shivering, my arms covered in goosebumps, but admitting that felt like surrender.
“Go away, Kronos.”
He sighed, a plume of white breath disappearing into the falling snow. “Not going to happen. Either get on the bike, or I’ll throw you over my shoulder and put you on it.”
I stopped walking, finally turning to glare at him. “Why can’t you just leave me alone? I told you I can’t do this.”
“You said you can’t do ‘this’,” he replied, cutting the engine and swinging his leg over the bike. Even in the swirling snow, his movements were fluid, predatory.Gods, how is he always so fucking perfect! It’s not fair.“You never explained what ‘this’ is.”
“This!” I gestured between us. “Whatever fantasy you’ve built up in your head about me. I’m not some—some trophy you can dress up and parade around at your fancy parties.”
He took a step closer, his face unreadable. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“What else would it be?” I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to stop shivering. “You buy me expensive clothes, take me to places I could never afford, like I’m some kind of—pet. Hell, you even call me yourpetand bunny. Docile and helpless and in need of your fucking rescue.”
“That’s not—” He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it standing up in damp spikes. “That’s not what this is. You’re being ridiculous.”
“Then what is it?” My voice cracked. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks a lot like you trying tofixme.”
Something flickered across his face—hurt, maybe, or frustration. “I don’t want to fix you, Alex. There’s nothing to fix.”
I was too angry to hold it back anymore. “Right. Because I’m so perfectly well-adjusted. Like I’m not some trussed up whore. Like you won’t ride off on your stupid bike and find some other fuck up. The entire state knows what I am, especially the men that’d be at this fucking Gala.”
“And what’s that?” He closed the distance between us, his heat radiating even through his riding jacket. “What do you think you are?”
“Damaged goods.” Worthless. Stupid. The words tasted sour on my tongue. I swallowed hard. “I was the guy businessmen slipped away to see when they told their partners they were ‘working late.’” My voice cracked. “I’m not the kind they take on fancy dates. I’m the kind they pretend never existed in the morning.”
His hand shot out, catching my wrist before I could back away. “Don’t.” His voice was low, dangerous. “Don’t talk about yourself like that.”
“Why not? It’s the truth.” I tried to pull away, but his grip was unyielding. “I’ve spent years performing for clients. I’m good at making people feel special, making them think they matter for an hour or an evening. It’s what I do best.”
