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“You looked at me like I was fire… cute thing is, you still wanted to get burned.”
I should’ve walked away the moment the woman across from me lit her cigarette with the barrel-flash lighter strapped beside her guns, but Revy looked at me like she already knew I wouldn’t. Smoke curled between us while she leaned back with one boot against my chair, dark eyes dragging slowly over me as if she was deciding whether to kill me or pull me closer, and somehow both felt equally possible. When she finally smirked and brushed two fingers under my chin, the taste of whiskey and nicotine hanging in the air between us, I realized I’d stopped paying attention to every danger in the room except her.