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Maybe that isn’t exactly what he means, but it’s what I feel, and judging by the way his thumb brushes over my knuckles again when I step closer, I’m pretty sure I got close enough.
“Okay,” I whisper.
Sentinel clears his throat somewhere beside us. Carnage keeps looking at me. So, I keep looking at him.
Another, considerably louder throat clear comes from Sentinel before he mutters, “Right. This feels like a conversation I’m aggressively third-wheeling.”
Carnage finally tears his attention away long enough to lift his free hand and give him the finger.
Sentinel snorts. “Yeah, yeah. I’m going.” His boots cross the floor behind me, but apparently leaving quietly would violate some deeply held angelic principle because he stops when he reaches the door. “For the record, I’m very proud of all this healthy emotional communication.” The door opens with a soft creak. “Deeply uncomfortable. Slightly nauseating… but proud.”
Carnage’s middle finger stays exactly where it is.
“Love you, too, sunshine.”
The door closes behind him, and I can’t stop the laugh that slips out as Carnage finally lowers his hand.
“He’s a lot.”
Carnage turns back to me with an expression so thoroughly exhausted that I laugh again, because apparently, I’ve only scratched the surface.
“Yeah, okay. I’m getting the feeling I have no idea.”
His mouth twitches, but when I look toward the closed door, something about the way Sentinel spoke to him stays with me. All the teasing and bullshit wrapped around something impossible to miss.
“He loves you.”
The humor slips from Carnage’s face. His gaze drops to our joined hands, and for a second his thumb stops moving. There’s something in that tiny reaction that has me stepping closer until barely any space remains between us.
When his eyes lift to mine again, something between us changes. The warmth already moving through me deepens, softer this time, and I let myself feel it without trying to figure out exactly what he’s saying.
I’m starting to realize I don’t need to.
My free hand comes up and settles against his chest, right over his steady heartbeat. “I’m starting to understand you, you know?”
One eyebrow lifts in confusion.
“Oh, don’t look so terrified.”
His mouth curves with a smirk.
“Actually, maybe you should be.” I let my fingers spread over his shirt. “Your frequency gives away a lot more than you think it does.”
That smile disappears real-fucking-fast.
I laugh, and the warmth coming through our connection spikes with something that feels suspiciously like annoyance.
“See?” I grin up at him. “It’s a snitch.”
Carnage rolls his eyes and reaches for his phone.
I catch his wrist before he gets there, and his gaze comes back to mine. “You don’t need it right now.”
He stills, and I slide my hand from his wrist into his palm, threading our fingers together again. Warmth spreads through my hand the second they lock, something distinctly Carnage curling beneath my skin until I squeeze his fingers tighter. “Just you.”
His thumb drags slowly across my knuckles, and whatever I just gave him comes back stronger. And this time, I don’t need Sentinel, a phone, or a single spoken word to understand him.
I stand and close the distance before I can talk myself out of it.
