Total pages in book: 17
Estimated words: 16175 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 81(@200wpm)___ 65(@250wpm)___ 54(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16175 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 81(@200wpm)___ 65(@250wpm)___ 54(@300wpm)
The moment I touch her, she stiffens. Even with layers of clothing between us, I feel a jolt down my spine.
Fucking hell. I’ve got it bad. So fucking bad.
We’re almost to the door, and I extend my hand to grab the handle when Viktor comes sauntering like he owns the place. Well, maybe because he does—the bar’s called Vik’s after all.
Viktor is my foster brother. He’s five years older than me and my total opposite in every single thing. Where my hair is inky black, his is a dark blonde. Where my eyes are dark brown, his are the color of the ocean.
We are pretty much the same height, but he almost always looks taller because of his hairstyle. He loves three-piece suits for some reason, and he’s wearing one of his favorites—a midnight blue with a crisp, white shirt underneath.
And … Viktor has that smug smile I hate so much. He knows better than to sweep his gaze all over Tess. Nevertheless, he stands before us and raises a brow at me. “Leaving already, Theo?”
I take a deep breath and stare daggers at him. “Yeah. I need to make sure she gets home safe.”
A spark of understanding flickers in his eyes. His eyebrows arch, and his mouth twitches, like he’s stopping himself from grinning like an idiot. Viktor shoves his hands into his pockets and tips his head in Tess’ direction. “This her?”
In a split second, I’m in his face, hissing, “Shut the fuck up, Viktor.”
He bursts out laughing and slaps my back twice before turning around and waving us off. “See you tomorrow, Theo … and Tess.”
2
TESS
“How does he know my name?” I ask while I try to focus on walking with my stupid four-inch heels. I don’t know why I even wore them. I hate heels. I hate how uncomfortable they are, and I hate how I can’t run in them in case of a zombie apocalypse.
Theo shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe because he heard me say it.”
“Huh. That’s weird. But he seems like a good guy.”
“He is.”
“Also seems like a good boss.”
“He is.”
“You’ve known each other long?”
We stop in front of his truck—a faded gray Dodge pick-up—and his forehead creases. “Yeah, you can say that.”
That’s the only thing he says. Of course. If there’s one thing I notice, making Theo speak seems to put him in pain, like pulling his teeth. He’s always been a man of a few words even in class. No, especially in class. The professors have all given up trying to get him to participate in discussions.
He reaches for the passenger side door, but I say, “Wait. How do you know I’m not driving my own car?”
There’s that discomfort on his face again, likely debating whether to evade my question or lie or refuse to speak altogether. Theo runs a steady hand over his forehead and the top of his head and grips his man bun.
God, this guy is sexy, hot, and deliriously good-looking.
He’s more than a foot taller than me, with broad shoulders, a lean frame, and muscled forearms. In class, I always steal glances at him when he’s writing because his hand—veins and all—looks so … manly.
Sure, he has that scar on his cheek, but so what? Who doesn’t have scars? I do. Not something as obvious as his, but my own scars are the result of living under the roof of someone who hates the very sight of me. My father’s barbs cut so deep that most of them are still fresh in my mind.
But Theo…
There’s an air of danger around him, like he’s not someone anyone wants to mess with. I’m actually surprised the prick in the bar didn’t take the hint. Theo takes no shit from anyone. And God, that’s sexy as hell.
“You don’t have your own car, Tess.”
My name on his lips has me clenching my thighs, flames dancing through my belly. How in the world does he have this much power over me?
Focus, Tess. Focus. You’re having a conversation with someone you’ve been crushing on for almost a year. You can’t make him think you’re a bimbo.
I pull his jacket tighter around me. There’s a strange kind of intimacy in wearing something that’s his. I can smell him, feel him. It’s like having his arms around me.
“How did you know?”
He lifts one shoulder. “You’re always riding in your friends’ cars.”
Wait. Does that mean—
“You noticed me?”
His eyebrows almost reach his hairline before his whole face crumbles into a state of surprise and incredulity. “What do you mean, Tess? Of course, I notice you. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”
Theo realizes it at the same time as me. His pupils dilate before he snaps his eyes shut and purses his lips. He never meant to say that out loud. Not only is that the longest sentence he’s ever said to me, but he’s also not the type to voice out his confessions. He’s the kind of man who keeps his cards close to his chest. At least, that’s what I think.