I don’t know what’s worse—the fact that I can never unsee this, or the fact that I… kinda get why she’s into it.
And for the first time in my life, I have no idea what the fuck to say.
Anna lunges.
I barely dodge as she makes a grab for the book, her entire body radiating panic and murderous intent in equal measure.
“Drop it.Right the fuck now.”
I clear my throat, recovering as quickly as possible, shaking off whatever the hell that just did to me.
“Hold on, hold on,” I say, yanking the book just out of reach, forcing myself to smirk past the surprising mental imagery I just sustained.“I just need to—yep, okay,confirmed, that’s somevery… innovative swordplay.”
Anna makes a sound like she’s about to commitviolence.
I drag a hand down my face and groan dramatically.“Ace, I think I need aminute.”
She lunges again, finally snatching the book from my hands.
She clutches it to her chest like a lifeline, her entire face on fire.
“Oh my god, you arethe worst?—”
“Is this, uhm, is it for research?”I ask, wanting to know but also kinda not wanting to know.
She lets out anexasperatedgroan and crosses her arms.“It’s forbook club,idiot.”
I blink.“Book club?”
“Yes.Book club.I’m reading it foreducational purposes.”
I stare at her.
She stares back.Arms crossed.Chin lifted.Doingeverythingin her power to look unaffected—except for the fact that her face is still red as hell.
I should let this go.
I should be a mature adult and move on.
But she left me alone with that scene for way too long.
I tilt my head.“What kind of book club exactly?”
Her expression doesn’t even change.“A normal one.”
I raise a brow.“A normal one?”
“Yes.”
“Just some gals sitting around discussing plot structure?”
“Yes.”
“Andthematic depth?”
“Obviously.”
“And, I assume, the historical accuracy of battlefield logistics?Because I’d definitely point out that lifting the horse thing.”