Page 31 of Wild Blades

I shrug. “No idea.”

But it’s then I seeher.

Like the parting of the Red Sea, an invisible path is carved as people in the VIP area step aside as she moves my way.

Everything fades to black. Myles and Ezra’s voices disappear into the void, and nothing else matters in that moment.

I’ve been thinking about her more and more.

Desperately trying to ignore the way she makes me feel, but I can’t escape it.

I even dreamed about her the other night after spending hours scrolling through hundreds of photos of her online. I’ve read another hundred or more articles on her too, trying to convince myself I was just researching the woman I was beingforced to work with. I’m not sure when I realized I was lying to myself.

I can’t get enough of her, and she’s becoming my obsession.

Her smile, her laugh, her incredible ability to make me feel at ease—like I’ve known her forever—and the confidence she oozes is all sexy as fuck.

For some unfathomable reason, right now, I feel uncomfortable as the sight of her makes my heart rate quicken.

She’s beautiful; she can’t hide it either. As if she’s a magical star from another planet, you can’t take your eyes off her, don’t want to. And she seems so blissfully unaware of everyone staring at her. It’s sort of endearing.

Demure and elegant as a swan, she glides my way. Holding eye contact with me, they sparkle, and I wonder if it’s because she’s not expecting to see me, although she’s more likely pissed at me for being out partying in a club when I am supposed to be staying out of trouble.

Holding her gaze, everything around me fills with color again.

“Legs for fucking days,” Myles mutters under his breath, while Ezra asks, “Did you not have a poster of her on your bedroom wall?”

“Spank bank material, right there,” Myles confirms, making me want to punch him in the nuts.

What the hell do I care? I’m only working with her.

The words “Kali Roth,” involuntarily leave my lips because she’s so close to me. Toe to toe with me, actually. Right here. In my face, standing in the VIP area.

“Trouble,” she counters. Her eyes narrow to slits. “Are you drinking?” Her sweet breath that smells a lot like coconut and chocolate liqueur puffs against the skin of my face.

“No.” I hold my bottle of water up as evidence. “See.”

Without a word, she takes it from me, unscrews the cap, and takes a swig, leaving a perfect line of red lipstick around the rim, then replaces the cap when she’s satisfied.

The heat of my friends’ stares on either side of my face feels like holes being burned into my cheeks.

“Good boy,” she says, the words doing things to my cock I don’t appreciate.

What the fuck?

“Hey, I’m Ezra,” he butts in, holding out his hand to introduce himself, and I’m wishing he’d given me time to let me do that. I do have manners.

“Pleased to meet you, Ezra. I’m Kali.”

“Myles had a poster of you on his bedroom wall.” He points at Myles, sounding like a boyish version of him from way back, making her eyes flicker with humor.

Dickhead.I’m also cringing internally.

Kali is so smooth she replies with ease, “A superfan, I like it.” She slips me a curious glance before moving to Myles. “Lovely to meet you, Myles?” Holding out her hand, she greets him, and I notice how her eyes move up and down his frame, which pisses me off for reasons I can’t explain. Can’t deny Myles is a good-looking fucker. The whole surfer, blond hair, brown eyes, and doesn’t give a shit about fashion works for him. How he pulls the distressed clothes look off and makes them look designer, without them being, is beyond me.

“Hey,” he responds eventually, looking completely starstruck.

I don’t blame him. She doesn’t fit on a beauty spectrum, she’s on a level of her own.

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