That means nothing!

You need to go home.

Right now.

Steeling myself against him—grateful when my heart stayed in a normal thud-thud and not the desire-fueled flutter from before—I snapped, “What do you mean?”

He shifted, kicking one leg out for balance. It wasn’t anything but an adjustment, but it drew my attention down his body. To how tall he was. How his thigh shaped the dirty denim. How he wore mystery like an expensive new fashion must-have. “I mean, there’s something about you.”

There’s something about you, too.

Even the darkness of the alley couldn’t detract from three things I noticed right away:

One, he was entirely too handsome (or I’d been far too sheltered to be alone with him).

Two, he had an aura about him that demanded respect that wasn’t born but earned.

Three, he was filthy but didn’t seem to care as I followed a stain in his hoodie then a scuff then a hole.

He just stood there, allowing my inspection as he repaid the favor. His eyes had fingers, trailing over my skin with gentle feathers, forcing me to catch my breath even though I remained still.

Oh, my God, get a grip, Elle.

Yes, he saved you.

Yes, he was brave enough to stop a crime.

But that’s all there is to it, and all there’ll ever be.

You are not a silly girl who gets crushes.

Time to go.

Whatever this was meant nothing.

It couldn’t.

Things like this didn’t happen in real life, and they certainly didn’t happen in my life.

Just because Dad had stopped reading me fairy-tales long ago didn’t mean I needed to fabricate such ridiculousness now.

I forced myself to look at his face. I’d almost forgotten what we discussed, which was idiotic, and crazy, and so unlike me, panic whizzed through my blood, making me curt. “Money. I need it.” I held out my hand, hating the wobble. “I want to leave.”

“Leave?”

“Yes.”

“You can’t leave.”

“What?” My eyebrows shot upright as my pulse thrummed in my punch-bruised temple. “Of course, I can leave. I want to leave. You said you wouldn’t hurt me.”

He held up his hand, oblivious to his dirty nails and dried blood on his knuckles. “Easy. You can go. I’m not holding you captive—I didn’t mean that.”

“What did you mean?”

He wafted the money, making the bills flop in his fist. “I mean...we need to talk about this money.”

My hackles rose. “What about it?”

He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, distracting me. His gaze locked on mine, either aware of the reaction he caused or seeking answers to his own curiosity.

His voice lowered to a murmur. “I saved your life.”

“You did.” My voice slipped to a whisper, accepting the quietness almost with relief. Tension unwound from my shoulders only to spool tight again as he said, “I think the generous thing to do is offer me your cash.”

Half of my brain knew why—he’d given me a service and nothing in life was free. But the other half was so befuddled, so drunk on his beard-covered jaw and kissable lips, I wrinkled my nose. “What for?”

He coughed with a thread of annoyance. “Payment, of course. For saving you. We just agreed that’s what I did?”

Another injection of adrenaline flooded my veins. I nodded, wound up and jumpy with the way he watched me. “You’re right. You did save me. It’s only right you earn a reward.” I wouldn’t deny him payment—especially when it looked as though his clothes had seen better days. But I also couldn’t fight the small terror of how I would get home.

You walked here.

You can walk back.

Technically, I could. I just couldn’t envision walking through the city after what had just happened without jumping at shadows every step.

I’m not cut out for the outside world.

I should’ve stayed in my tower and played with my cat and ran my father’s company like I’d been groomed to.

Hooded Man flicked the money with his spare hand. “Great. I accept. Thank you.”

“Thank you for saving me.”

He flashed his teeth. “You’re welcome.”

Something switched between us, removing the threat of violence, putting us at an impasse.

His shoulders sagged a little. Glancing at the money, his face darkened as if fighting an internal war. Suddenly, he held out the bills. “Here, take it.”

“But I just gave it to you. You’re right—”

His fingers latched around my wrist, while his other hand slammed the notes into my palm. “I don’t want it.”

I gasped at the heat of his touch. At the way my skin ignited beneath his. How the crackle of awareness increased a thousand-fold. And then it was gone as he yanked his hands away and backed up.

Dragging his fingers through his black-brown hair, he muttered, “I should go.”

Here was my chance to return home without any more mishaps. I could nod and agree and walk out of the alley to summon a chariot to drive me back to my realm.

But his despondency made my fear switch to empathy. Just as I’d fed the homeless man in Times Square, I wanted to help this one, too.

If he is even homeless.

For all I knew, he was a masked crusader running around the city, getting dirty by helping women like me who had no right being out so late alone.

I broached the small space between us. “I truly am grateful.”