The Sharp Edge of Bliss: An Enemies to Lovers MMF Bisexual Romance by Sorcha Black

Author:Sorcha Black [Black, Sorcha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Belfry Publishing
Published: 2020-02-29T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

On our eighth morning in Mykonos, the sunlight creeping through the room-darkening curtain felt like it was burrowing into my eyeballs. I rubbed my forehead, wishing the sun would go back to sleep. My last dream dragged at me, but I didn’t want to go anywhere in its company.

Doing my best to shake it off, I sat up in bed, feeling old and sore. The drinking and dancing thing was fun now that Blaise wasn’t quite as cranky as he had been, but I was starting to get tired of it.

At first I didn’t realize I wasn’t alone in the bed, but then something landed on my legs that sounded suspiciously like a book.

My copy of Wee Free Men was lying in my lap. I turned and glared at Blaise, wondering why he was starting off the day by being a jerk.

“Why do you read this book so incessantly?” he asked, lounging against the headboard, his chest bare above the bed sheet. The sneer on his face wasn’t as pretty as the rest of him, but I was getting used to the expression. If he ever woke up in a pleasant mood I’d know he’d been replaced by an imposter.

“I love it.”

“Well, considering how often you read it, I should hope so.”

I closed my fingers around the tattered paperback and held it protectively against my chest. He would have needed to lean across me while I was sleeping to grab it, but I hadn’t even felt him do it. I must have been out cold.

“It talks about a lot of important things,” I said hotly. My uncle had made fun of me for reading it too, but the book was beautiful and had become very important to me.

“I can’t believe you brought a library book to Europe.”

“It’s not a library book,” I said defensively.

He snorted. “If it’s not a library book, then why does it have Chicago Public Library stamped inside it?”

I frowned at him and put the book back on the nightstand on my side of the bed, not bothering to answer such a stupid question. It had Chicago Public Library stamped inside it because I’d stolen it, obviously, although it had been an accident.

“It’s a kids’ book, isn’t it? Why bother reading it, let alone over and over?”

“Just because something was written for children doesn’t mean adults can’t read it. Besides, I got it when I was a kid.”

“From the library?”

“Maybe.”

“You little anarchist,” he mocked, albeit with mild approval. “You’re supposed to return those, you know. Some other kid probably couldn’t do his book report because you never returned that book. They’re going to send the library cops after you.”

I frowned at my toes which were wiggling under the sheet with my discomfort.

“Library cops aren’t really a thing.”

“Spoken like a woman who probably researched that fact before she decided not to return the book. You might have fifty bucks in fines by now.”

The familiar, related tension knotted in my stomach. I knew he was just amusing himself by teasing me, but it was a niggling guilt that always followed me around.

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