“So cool,” Rue says.
“I don’t know if that’s the right word.”
He shrugs. “It is to me. I’ve seen some bad stuff and I know I could’ve just as easily been trafficked or assaulted or dead if people like you didn’t exist.”
My stomach twists at the idea of anyone hurting Rue. “I’m gonna shower. Enjoy the rest of the movie.”
Colson chuckles, shutting the TV off. “As if he can focus now you’re home. All he did was talk about you all night.”
“Traitor,” Rue whispers, but he’s smiling. “I’m trying to play it cool.”
“Oh, my bad.” Colson winks. “Enjoy.”
“Is Specter out?” I ask.
Colson nods. “He’ll be home soon. He texted that he was cleaning up.”
Rue stands and bounces over to me, taking my hand and checking out my scraped knuckles. He tsks, shaking his head. “Let’s get you cleaned up, handsome.”
“Whatever you want, precious.” I lean in and kiss his cheek. “You missed me?”
He rolls his eyes but he’s still smiling. “Not at all. I barely thought about you.”
“Is that so?” I scoop him off his feet, grinning as he giggles. Though he’s fairly tall, he’s a lot lighter than me, making it pretty easy for me to carry him up the stairs. “Guess I’ll have to try to be more memorable.”
Rue drapes his arms around my neck. “Pretty sure you’re like a tattoo. Once it’s there, it’s always there.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“It’s the best thing ever.”
CHAPTER 18
Rue
While Carn isin the shower I brush my teeth and freshen up a bit, excited to have him back home. Even though this isn’t really my home, it is for now. Unless he meant what he said about keeping me.
Is it weird that it doesn’t bother me at all when he says it? Like, shouldn’t I be worried that he’s just as oppressive as Leon is?
No, he’s not.
I know better. He’s intense, but he still checks in and makes sure things are okay with me. He would never take advantage the way Leon did.
I lie on the bed, waiting for him, letting myself imagine what a real relationship with Carnage could be like. I wonder what his name is. He told me all about his life but not his name. Obviously no one names a baby Carnage, so he must have another one. Would he tell me if I asked?
What else do I want to know about him? All the little things you talk about on first dates don’t seem so important. Would I like him more or less if I knew his favorite color? I don’t think so.
He comes out of the bathroom a moment later, the steam from the shower wafting around him in the doorway. There’s a towel clinging on for dear life around his hips, and my mouth actually waters when I see him.
He’s drying his hair with another towel, leaning against the doorjamb and smiling at me.
“You’re so hot,” I whisper.
“So are you.”
I shake my head. “No, I’m not hot. Cute maybe, but not hot. I’m not in the same category as you are.”
“Eye of the beholder and all that.”