Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
I giggle.
Scarlett looks to me. “We need to go check this club out again soon.”
I glance back at Koda and he winks at me. “Sure Mal would love you precious little gems being exposed to that.”
My mouth forms an O and I look to Scarlett, who rolls her eyes. “Goodbye, Koda.”
Koda waves and then leaves the room, all six feet of him, stomping out like his weight is too much to carry. I bite into my muffin again, sighing as the gooey chocolate melts on my tongue. I think about the club, and I wonder what it is like there. Scarlett has been once, but she said she was too angry to take notice. Since then she hasn’t been back.
I glance over at the clock on the wall, and sigh.
I have to go.
I turn to Scarlett. “I have to go, but I’ll come back tonight, okay?”
“Okay. You know I can come to your place sometimes, you don’t always have to come here.”
But I do.
Because if she came to my place, she’d know that I’m not as pure and innocent as she believes. And I can’t have that. I need her to believe in me because she’s the only person I have left. The only person I can count on. If she knew what I really kept inside, she might not trust in me anymore.
“Someday.” I smile, hopefully putting her off the subject.
“Text me later, okay?”
I nod. “Okay.”
I take my muffin, wave goodbye, and leave the cottage. I step out the front door and run straight into a hard chest. A loud oomph leaves my throat and my hands automatically go up, muffin in one, and push against the object I just slammed into. Horror slowly washes over me when I realize that object is a man in a leather jacket and I just crushed my muffin all over it.
I step back, mouth agape, shame washing over me as I see Mal standing in front of me, chest covered in chocolate.
Oh, no.
Oh, God.
“I-I-I-I ...,” I stammer, letting the muffin slip from my hand and crumble onto the floor.
My other hand goes up to my mouth and presses over it. I’m such a clumsy idiot. God. I avoid his eyes, horrified at what I’ve done. There is probably something against washing those leather jackets. Isn’t that what men do? They don’t wash them to keep them special? Now he’s going to have to wash it. All his memories. Everything. Boom. Because of me.
And my muffin.
A strong hand cups my jaw, and I shut my eyes.
Is he going to yell at me?
I would.
Not watching where I was going.
His calloused fingers shake my face, just a little, until my eyes pop open and I look up into his. Dazzling green. Just like Maverick’s. His hair is longer, curling around his shoulders, and it’s thick, so, so thick. He’s big. Bigger than any of the other members I’ve seen. His muscles strain beneath his tight black shirt. He’s terrifying, and utterly beautiful.
“Amalie.”
I can’t hear his voice clearly, but it penetrates enough for the smooth, husky sound to make my skin prickle. I stare up at him, cheeks burning with shame, and stammer, “I’m so sorry, Malakai. I didn’t know you were there. I’ve ruined your jacket and—”
He grins.
Grins!
I blink in confusion. Why is he laughing at me? I feel terrible.
“Jackets can be washed, darlin’,” he says, eyes dropping to my lips. “The look on your face right now ... worth all the chocolate currently residing on it.”
I clench my eyes shut. His fingers are still curled around my jaw. And it feels nice. Protective. Safe.
“I’ll pay for it to get washed. I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.”
I meet his eyes again, they’re dancing with humor. “Stop stressing out about it, you’re goin’ to send yourself into a state. Breathe, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart.
God.
“Right,” I whisper, stepping back.
I stare down at the crumbled muffin on the floor. “I can’t say I’ve ever done that before, at the very least.”
He chuckles, and I can hear it even though I’m not looking at him. I lift my eyes again, staring up at him through my lashes. “I guess it’s a welcome snack for you later ...”
He bursts out laughing, and I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face. His laugh. The way it makes his face look. It’s heaven.
“Duly noted. I’ll be sure to save myself a piece.”
I flush again.
“Where are you headed in such a hurry?” he asks me, and I try to avoid staring at the chocolate stain on his jacket.
“I just have to get home,” I tell him.
“Need a ride?”
I glance behind him at his very large, very beautiful, very angry looking motorcycle. “No, thanks,” I murmur.
“Scared?” he asks me, and my eyes hold his. I can feel his words, right to my very core.
I shouldn’t feel them.