Shadow & Ghost: City of Shadows: A Slow-Burn MM Urban Fantasy by Lex Veia

Author:Lex Veia [Veia, Lex]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2024-02-28T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Alvardo’s clinic sits in the Ocelot neighborhood of Southside, about six miles from our hotel. It’s an easy run for a Renegade, and after the team beat me to a pulp at the last training, nobody’s sad to let Ghost take me for some solo conditioning.

It’s hot, the desert sun beating down without mercy from a cloudless expanse of cerulean sky, soaking into the concrete and tar of the city. Our tennis shoes tap in tandem as we fly side by side over the cracked sidewalk. Plain brick apartments trace the car-clogged street.

I barely notice though because I’m too busy trying not to notice the way Ghost’s fitted black tank contrasts his broad shoulders and narrow waist, leaves half the ink exposed on top of his right shoulder. That shirt shouldn’t be allowed. Or maybe it should be required? It’s definitely going into my shower collection though—

“Important question.” I force my gaze ahead as a smile creeps over my face. “Will I lose all my muscles, not training at eight thousand feet?”

“Is that what you’re worried about?” His eyes flick sideways, then quickly forward again. I want so badly to make him blush. Is that too much to ask?

“Shouldn’t I be?” C’mon, Ghost-Boy. Look—but no, it’s me who’s looking. Appreciating the way that shirt clings to his beautiful muscles, accenting every line and curve of his body. You can see the definition of his individual abs in that thing.

This is so unfair.

“What are you looking at?”

Does he really not realize how attractive he is?

I flash him my most charming grin. I haven’t used that one much in the past handful of days; things have gotten way too serious.

“Just thinking I’ll probably never see your face out in the city again,” I say, because I don’t think I’ve ever seen him out in public without a hood. “Does it feel weird? The fresh air on your cheeks? The wind in your face?”

His jaw flexes as he grits his teeth. “Are you going to be annoying this whole mission?”

“Oh, yes. It’s part of my workflow. You, however, are not, so, sadly, you won’t get to enjoy it.”

“Winter—” That tendon in his jaw ticks again, and I can’t tell if it’s my colorful commentary or his lack of hood making him disagreeable.

“Will you miss me?” I coo. Filters are overrated, and I’ve never had any sense of self-preservation anyway. “The lovely hum of my voice? My gamey jokes? My unceasing charm and charisma?”

“I can’t wait for silence.”

“Perfect. Then I know you won’t follow me.”

He groans. I grin and increase our pace a little so the stucco single-families rush past. Pushing his buttons is probably my most favorite game of all the games I’ve ever played.

I don’t tell him that he is about to be part of my act. I’m charm and dimples, and I know how to make a lady smile, but I surely cannot compare to his cheekbones. And tell me the girls don’t love a broody, muscly, tattooed bad boy? Girls, and me, apparently.

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