Page 54 of Wild Blades

“Security’s here,” Graham shouts, walking back into the store from seeing Rory and his parents out the back safely.

I step back in a flash, dropping my hands from her face and shove my hands into the pockets of my sweatpants.

Flustered, Kali runs her hands down her thighs as if she’s straightening herself out. There’s no need. She’s perfect.

“Great.” Kali touches her face where my hand was and slips back into business mode, listing what happens next as if I haven’t done this a hundred times before, except she is using this as a publicity opportunity and wants it to be perfect. “Sign autographs, take photos. About twenty or thirty will be enough to satisfy them, and you might get lots of customers today, Graham.” Combing her hands through her long jet-black hair, she fluffs it up with her fingers to give it a little extra volume.

Stunning.

She walks with confidence behind the four security guys. “Let’s do this.” She rubs her hands together. “Ready, Wade?”

For the fans? Yes.

Ready for her?

I’m just a contract for her to fulfill and I’m starting to think that whatever I imagine is happening between us is all in my head.

My mother was always quick to remind me of the vivid imagination I had.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Kali

We’re at a new axe throwing bar I recently helped with the opening publicity of. I talked Wade into coming here after Brooklyn, the owner, agreed to give us a private room so we can get a little privacy and allow Wade to let his hair down a little. Not that he has a lot.

His chocolaty brown locks are clipped short on the sides into the perfect skin fade, with a little length on top which looks perfectly styled and messed up at once. He keeps it shorter than any of the other players on his team, which tells me he’s not superstitious about cutting it until game season is over. He is his own individual, which I love about him.

Like.

Not love.

Today has been fun. Not very often, but sometimes, shopping by myself can get a little hectic, as I often get stopped for selfies and autographs, hence my security staff who I can call on at a moment’s notice if fans get a little excitable, but shopping with Wade has been next level pandemonium.

Turns out I don’t need security when he’s around. He was protective of me the entire time, wrapping his arm around me, his hand at the bottom of my spine, which made me swoon.

“I can’t believe you made me do this.” Wade yields an axe my way, pretending to be mad about it, which he isn’t. He’s even laughed, like full on belly laughter. It’s the first one I’ve heard from him and was kind of magical in a way it made his whole face light up.

“You should come here and throw axes instead of punching hockey players and people in dive bars.”

He chuckles again. “I might just do that.” Moving over to the starting line, getting ready to throw his axe, with two hands, he positions it above his head, then propels it forward, making the axe somersault through the air before hitting the far wall with a loudthunk. “We’re even.”

Walking to the target, he yanks the axe out of the wood before he saunters back and calls, “Sudden death.”

I’m pretty good at axe throwing. I won the first game, then Wade won the second, and this is the decider.

“Where the fuck do you put it all?” He points at the plate of dirty fries I’m stuffing my face with.

“I’m hungry.” On the rare occasions I have been hungover, I find eating makes me feel better. Luckily, I didn’t upchuck this morning. I hate being sick. I stick another two fries in my mouth and mumble around my food, which is very unladylike of me. “I have a super-fast metabolism or something. I can eat whatever I want whenever I want. If I don’t eat, I lose weight real fast.”

“You’re kidding?”

“Nope.” That’s one of the reasons brands loved hiring me; I maintained my weight.

I take a swig of my water, which I have had several bottles of today to rehydrate myself. I feel all the better for it. “Are yougoing to throw that or kill me with it?” I point to the axe he’s still holding.

“I’m going for bullseye.” He winks, then pretends to lick the edge of the blade as if he’s lubricating it or some shit.What I would like him to do with that unholy tongue.I am momentarily speechless as I choke on my fries.

Rushing my way, he drops the axe, then slaps me on the back to help me to dislodge the blockage. “You good?”

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