Chapter Twenty-Nine
I blink at him.
He leans in, his gaze drilling into me. “If you die, I will not be able to stand it.”
I just keep blinking.
And blinking.
And blinking—as if my brain crashed and now needs a reboot.
He loves me?
Of all the arguments I expected him to make, that wasn’t on the list—which is maybe why he said it.
But did he mean it?
I mean, I know he cares about me, in his growly, overprotective, often-overbearing way, but this—
“We’re ready to start the TV demonstrations,” someone’s voice announces, interrupting my scrambled thoughts. “We took a vote and decided Sasha should go first and Nero second, so we need you guys.”
“I’m coming,” I say, purely on autopilot.
Giving me an unreadable look, Nero blurs away.
As I follow, I belatedly recall that when someone m
