Page 41 of The Hitman's Prince

“You have a habit of losing your footing when I’m around,” he said, breath hot against my ear.

We were so close. I could pull out the knife and shove it up between his ribs, puncture his heart, and run. I could leave him to bleed out for a second time on the steps of the church. No one would know it was me, no one would care about retribution because after Vince took his last breath, it wouldn’t be long before I also took mine.

I didn’t want to live in a world without him, even if he didn’t know.

“Can you blame me?” I asked with a shaky laugh. “You’re…”

The words caught, and I cleared my throat.

“I’m what?” he prompted.

“You’re you,” I settled on, giving him a small smile. “You’re captivating.”

“That’s a word I don’t think anyone has used to describe me before.”

“Then I’m your first?”

“It seems you are,” he murmured, tongue darting out to lick the corner of his lips. He smiled down at me, browraised in surprise at my forwardness, I imagined. “You know, for someone who isn’t Catholic, you spend a lot of time at church.”

“I could say the same about you,” I countered, glancing over Vince’s shoulder. The weight of the priest’s stare was heavy and it was all around me.

“Do you drink coffee?” Vince asked, and I made sure to smile wide enough for the priest to see.

“I do.”

Chapter 31

Vince

Even though I had already put my dick in his mouth, there was something about Caspian I couldn’t quite put my finger on. There wassomethingfamiliar about him, but looking at his face also felt like a dream. Maybe I was confusing familiarity with arousal, thinking more of the night I’d taken him into the alley behind the church rather than anything else. He’d definitely been cruising that night, but running into him at the church a second time felt far from coincidental.

He walked beside me down the street, the top of his head barely reaching my shoulder. When I looked over at him, all I could see was a mess of red hair and the toes of his sneakers kicking out as he walked. We went down two blocks and over four, finally stopping at a little coffee shop I used to frequent as a teenager.

“What do you like?” I asked.

“A vanilla latte is fine,” Caspian said. “I’ll get us a table.”

I nodded and he weaved his way through the line of people waiting for drinks so short it didn’t take long for him to disappear from view. I ordered him his latte, got a black drip for myself, then carried both drinks into the back of the cafe where I found Caspian sitting at a small table tucked into the corner. Setting both drinks down on the table, I took a seat beside him, pressing myself against the back of the seat. It was an old nervous habit I’d picked up and never been able to shake. Something about the bulge of my gun against my spine was the only thing I ever needed to calm my pulse.

“What do you want from me, Caspian?” I asked, taking the lid off my coffee to let it cool.

“What?”

“I know you know who I am. You told me as much the night we met. So you should also know that men like me don’t believe in coincidences.”

“I…” He gave me a coy smile that I wanted to slap off his face. “I don’t follow.”

“What are the odds, do you think, of two men who are decidedly not Catholic meeting up at a church?” I asked him, tilting my head to the side. “Twice.”

“I’m not stalking you, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“It wasn’t, but now that you mention it…”

Caspian’s cheeks burned a violent shade of pink, and I knew I’d hit the nail on the head. He didn’t have to admit it—I could see the truth of it mapped across his face, overthe ways his fingers tapped the white cardboard of his cup, his leg bouncing beneath the table.

He opened his mouth to protest a second time, but I cut him off. “I’m flattered, Caspian.”

Jacob would hate this.