Page 65 of Wild Tangled Hearts

“Well,” he says, fanning himself and batting his false eyelashes. “You know I’m always more than happy to talk about me.”

“Tell me about California?”

He grins and takes my hand. “You have to come visit me. With your legs, I’d have you running the catwalk like a pro in no time.”

”You’re hilarious.” I take a sip of the caramel macchiato he had waiting for me, grateful to indulge in the warm cup of caffeine and sugar.

“Now tell me more about this new beau. Who is he? I need deets.”

Grateful for any chance to talk about Damien, I share, “Well, he's gorgeous for starters,” I say with an exaggerated sigh.

"Oh no, you didnotjust sigh like that."

"What?" I take another sip of coffee and look at him like I don’t know what he’s talking about. The mere thought of Damien has my whole body vibrating with a wicked, delicious heat.

“Oh, you know what, darling. Whatever this whole thing is.” He circles his hand in front of me. “It’s got trouble written all over it.”

“You might be a little right,” I admit.

“So tell me more.”

“Well, he’s got this sort of a bad-boy thing going. He’s mysterious and a bit…dangerous.”

Mitchell groans. “Next, you’re going to tell me he drives a motorcycle, wears leather, and remarkably resembles Ian Somerhalder—” He stops midsentence when heat creeps into my cheek, and I blush, looking away. “I’m right, aren’t I!”

“Yes to the first two and a little to the Ian Somerhalder comment. Although I never really saw it until now.”

“Sounds like delicious trouble, so I approve. At least he’s getting you out of that funk you’ve been in for the past few years.”

"He’sdefinitelyhelped with that," I say, placing my hands on my hot cheeks at the thought of how helpful his mouth, tongue, and cock have been in helping me consistently for the last few nights.

Mitchell laughs. "Well, what’s this mysterious leather-clad man’s name?"

"Damien Blackwood. He’s in security, and—“

“Uh, uh, girl.” Mitchell shakes his head at me, dark eyes filling with concern as he leans forward and grabs my hand. "Did you say Damien Blackwood?TheDamien Blackwood?”

“You know him.” I frown.

“Not directly, but I’ve heard some...interestingstories about the guy.”

My stomach twists, and I’m almost afraid to ask, but I do anyway, “Like what?"

Mitchell leans in even closer, his eyes darting around the coffee shop, his voice dropping to a calm, conspiratorial tone. “Let's just say he's earned quite the reputation as a heartbreaker. But that's just the tip of the iceberg. He's on a whole different level of danger. Not the 'too hot to handle' dangerous, but the 'messed with the wrong sort of people' dangerous."

I frown, suddenly feeling a tad defensive. "This town is full of gossip.”

Mitchell raises a brow and leans back, sipping his coffee. "I'm not just talking about the local gossip mill, Bella. I know people who know his people. You want my advice?"

“Probably not,” I mutter.

"Get out while your heart's still intact. I know you well, and you weren't made for the kind of life he leads. He'll either shatter your delicate soul or break that beautiful heart.” Mitchell's tone shifts as he takes another sip of his coffee. "But hey, enough about your love life drama. Let's talk about the fabulousness that is me."

I chuckle, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. "Alright, spill the tea. Tell me everything about you,” I say, trying not to dwell on his warning.

He doesn’t know Damien.My heart latches onto all the good moments we’ve shared.

But that pesky voice of reason reminds me that as close as we’ve gotten recently, I don’t know that much about him either.

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