Page 12 of Crave You

I swallow hard and Erin laughs.

“Relax. Unless you’re secretly his business rival, you have nothing to worry about,” she says.

“Well unless he also wants to be a sports writer, I don’t think we’ll cross paths much,” I say relieved.

At that moment Laurel comes back from the bar and hands us each a red cup filled with green liquid.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Some sort of punch?” she shrugs.

I taste the drink. It’s sweet but it is indeed punch, as in it packs a punch. I wince as it burns its way down. The second sip is better and by the third, I quite like it.

Erin and Laurel chat and I mostly listen although I do put in an odd comment and as I relax, I say more, and I make the girls laugh, which I like. I’m in the middle of telling them a story about my best friend from home, Christian, and the time we got thrown out of the cinema, when a deathly hush falls over the room and without knowing the cause of it, I immediately stop talking and look around.

Standing in the doorway is a guy dressed in a black tailor-made suit and a stiff white linen shirt. He has two other guys on either side of him, both dressed the same. Everyone is watching as they step inside.

“Ooh it’s the Blues Brothers,” I quip softly to Erin but she hushes me with a serious look. Maybe I have had more of that punch than was wise, I think as I stifle a giggle. Out of the corner of my eye I notice that the twins and Shawn have stood up and I sense that there is going to be trouble.

“Who is that?” I hiss in Erin’s ear.

She brings her hand up to her face so she can whisper to me without anyone seeing.

“It’s Matthew Henderson. He and his boys run Hawks House. They’re similar to Valens, but there are nowhere near as elite, although Matthew seems to think they are.”

I wonder if that’s her loyalty to her brother, Shawn, talking because these guys certainly don’t look second rate, and if there’s a fight, I wouldn’t like to bet on which side would win.

“Good evening,” Matthew says, clearly addressing the entire room. He has a certain charm about him and he isn’t bad looking. He seems to know how to work a room. He turns his focus to the twins and Shawn. “We’re not here for any trouble.”

“So why are you here?” Shawn asks, stepping closer to the three newcomers.

“For the party like everyone else,” he says. “Are we not welcome?”

The tension thickens as the whole room waits for Shawn’s answer.

When the answer comes, it’s not Shawn who speaks. A voice comes from behind me on the staircase.

“They can stay,” the voice says. “Will somebody please fetch our new guests some drinks.”

It’s a commanding voice, the kind that belongs to a man who knows what he wants and always gets it. Well, almost always. Because as I glance up at the stairs, the figure, who has spoken, steps down from the shadows and I finally get a good look at him. It is Zander Morrell and I feel as if the world has stopped turning. I saw that he was handsome this afternoon, but then I had other things on my mind. Now that I see him again, I realize he is absolutely gorgeous. I have never seen anyone that good looking, not even in a movie. He has light-brown skin, a buzz cut, and beautiful green eyes. His face is sharp, square jaw under high cheek bones and a scar that runs through his right eyebrow. For a second, his eyes meet mine and I can’t breathe. The tension between us shimmers in the air. Then, he looks away and the spell is broken. I gasp in a breath.

At Zander’s words, Shawn backs off and Matthew nods a thank you to the Valens leader. All around me, the party starts up again. A couple of guys bring Matthew and his friends drinks as requested.

Meanwhile Zander has come down the rest of the stairs and is standing in front of me.

“Hello again, new girl,” he says. “I was hoping I might see some more of you.”

The way he says it, and the way his eyes run up and down my body, makes me think he means more of me as in more of my flesh. I feel my heart pounding harder at the thought of his hands on me, his full lips on mine. His . . .

“Leona?” Erin says, as Zander wanders away from us.

I look at her, feeling my cheeks going pink.

“No,” she says.

“No what?” I say, feigning innocence.

“Do not get mixed up with Zander,” she says.

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