Page 89 of King of Malice

I shrug, taking a big sip.

Zane stares at me for another minute before the bacon starts to sizzle and then he turns back to the stove.

He works at the stove while I drink the coffee, pouring myself another mug.

That’s when he puts the bacon on the small island that acts as an eating area and a prep space. “Help yourself.”

“No, thanks,” I answer, taking the first sip of my second cup.

“No thanks?” he squints at me. “Not hungry yet?”

I shrug, straightening up in a fighting pose. I know I shouldn’t be fighting over bacon, but he’s hit this nerve and my hackles are rising. “Nope.”

He cocks his head. “Should I wait another hour before I make the eggs?”

I shake my head. “I don’t need eggs. Thanks.”

His eyes narrow. “When do you plan to eat?”

“None of your business.” The words are out of my mouth before I’ve thought them through, but I notch my chin just the same.

He slowly sets the spatula down. “None of my business?”

“I’m a grown-ass woman. I don’t need you to tell me when to eat.”

His arms cross over his chest as he grows taller before my eyes. I’m not the only one who knows how to strike a pose.

My spine straightens to match his energy as I glare over the rim of my coffee cup.

“You fought two grown men last night, went to bed really late, and then we had, at least for me, mind-blowing sex. Twice. Why wouldn’t you give your body some fuel?”

My shoulders drop a fraction of an inch. Because that’s actually kind of sensible. But I don’t need him to tell me when to eat. “I can take care of myself.”

He cocks his head to the side. “Are you always like this?”

“Like what?” But my fingers curl into the cup, because he’s zeroing in on one of the ways I’m prickly.

“So resistant to letting people help you?”

My mouth opens in surprise. How did he figure that out so quick? But I snap my teeth closed. “No.”

His brow lifts, but he turns back to the stove, cracking an egg into the pan. Silently, I reach over to the plate and take a piece of bacon, popping the whole thing in my mouth before he can see what I’ve done.

I can admit he’s right without telling him. I don’t want him to think he gets to boss me around. He doesn’t…

Not ever.

The distance between us lasts until Zane sits down to a large plate of bacon and eggs. I nearly ask him to make me one but then change my mind. I do snatch another piece of bacon when he’s not looking.

Then I flounce off the shower.

The rest of the day passes much more pleasantly. We wade in the river, discuss safer topics like our favorite color.

Though, honestly, even that one holds pain for me.

I’m starting to realize why I so quickly detonate every relationship.

Apparently, I’m a field of land mines.