Chapter 0212


    “God no,” | say, hastily sticking out my tongue to let him know precisely what | think about that idea. “Just,” | tilt my head,


    considering. “This house is gigantic, and | haven’t seen half of it — and | just found out that there’s a secret passage to the


    dungeons in the back of my wardrobe, so,” | shrug. “I just want to know what else is in the Lippert House of Mysteries. To begin,


    do you have a gym where you spend many hours lifting weights? Or is this physique the result of...| don’t know. Beating people


    up in back allies?”


    Kentughs at me, shaking his head. But then he surprises me by pulling my body close so that I’m pressed tight against him, as


    if he doesn’t want any space between us at all. “I have a gym, Fay,” he tells me quietly. “No back alley beat-downs. I’m past that


    part of my life. The gym is private — just mine. It’s in that corridor that you just passed through, behind one of those grey doors. It


    can only be essed through the door in this room, and — well, the door in the back of your wardrobe. Which | suppose counts


    as an entrance, now that you know about it.”


    “You know that’s weird, right,” | ask, looking up into his face, my eyebrows raised. “That it’s weird that you had a secret entrance


    to my room this whole time and never told me? What, did you like, sneak in and...”


    Kentughs then, shaking his head at me. “No, Fay,” he scolds, but | can tell he’s amused more than offended. “I never snuck in


    and watched you sleep. I’m not a pervert.”


    | raise one eyebrow at him, skeptical, and heughs harder, but moves in to kiss me.


    Before he can, though, | swat him away.


    “Wha-* he says, surprised when | scootch away from him, brandishing my book like a defensive weapon.


    “No way, Kent!” | protest. “You don’t just get to wipe away all of my anger with really good sex, and then throw books at me to


    distract me, and expect all of the reasons for that anger to go away as well!”


    | see a smirk form on his lips, telling me that was indeed what he was hoping would happen. | hold up a scolding finger and point


    it at his face. “I admit,” | continue, “it was a good n. It almost worked. But we have to talk.”


    “Fine, Fay,” Kent murmurs, grabbing the offending finger in his gigantic hand and bringing my hand close to his face to kiss it


    before releasing me. “We''ll talk. | know why | was pissed off tonight,” he says, his habitual glowering back to his face as he


    and | remember — perhaps simultaneously — my little stolen moment with Ivan. “Why are you?”


    Content bel0ngs to N?vel(D)r/a/ma.Org.