Page 52 of Laila Manning
“Oh,” I swallowed, rubbing my hands down my jeans before grabbing another glass and a ticket from the printer. “That’s Zeke.”
“Evans, right?” Nicole glanced at him and smirked. “I’ve heard of him before, but I’ll be honest, I never understood the Boogeyman effect until now.”
“The what?” I frowned, glancing at Zeke, fighting the pull his crystal blue eyes had on me as he ran the rim of his glass over his bottom lip. Did he have any idea how seductive everything he did was?
Nicole chuckled. “He’s like the boogeyman. No one seems to know much about him, other than that he’s scary as fuck.”
“He’s not scary,” I argued, hating how one sentence raised my possessiveness over Zeke. “He’s intimidating, sure.” I shrugged, fighting to stop defending him like I had some claim over him. “That’s his job.”
“That’s his personality.” She countered, ignoring my discomfort. To be fair, she didn’t know me from Adam and didn’t owe me anything. “But it’s cool.” She winked at me as we crossed workstations. “I love a good dark and brooding man.”
“Eh.” I groaned to myself, fighting that knee-jerk jealousy that Elora loved to pick on me about. “Does this one get an orange?” I asked, setting down another drink on the bar, even though I already knew it got a cherry. I needed to change the subject to safer terms.
“God, that man on the other hand.” She shuddered and sighed. “He looks like the kind of man that could make a girl beg for the boogeyman.”
“Can we not—,” I started and froze when I looked up to see her staring down at the other end of the bar.
Away from Zeke.
And directly at Diesel Ames.
Who wasn’t paying her the least bit of attention, as he stared directly past her at me.
Shit. He actually fucking showed up.
I whipped my head over to Zeke, who of course already had Diesel pinned in a death glare with his hands in fists on the bar top.
Double shit.
I backed away from Diesel’s end of the bar and went straight to Zeke, as if physically siding with him would ease some of the rage building behind his eyes as he stared at the Reaper’s President.
“I didn’t invite him.” Zeke glanced at me before returning his stare to his target across the bar after my quick stammer.
“Does he come here often?”
“I don’t know,” I replied honestly. “I’ve never seen him here.”
“I don’t share,” Zeke said effortlessly, looking back at me and leaning forward on his elbows. “Let me make that clear.”
“I don’t want him.” His intense stare forced me to swallow my fear and keep going. “I’ve never invited his attention.”
“You rode his bike.” Zeke tilted his head to the side slightly.
“That upsets you,” I stated plainly, trying to figure out the emotions in my head, battling the ones slamming into me from Zeke.
“You touched him.” He tightened his hand around his whiskey glass. “Long before you ever touched me.”
My mouth snapped shut in shock as his words sank into my brain.
Diesel’s stare burned the side of my face as Zeke, and I locked eyes; I knew I had to be firm with Zeke to prevent the situation from worsening.
I leaned forward with my elbows on the bar until our faces were only a foot apart. “You’re the only one I’ve ever let touchme, though.”
His nostrils flared, and the strong column of muscles in his throat moved as he swallowed.
“Laila,” Nicole called from the other side of the bar. “We’ve got orders.”
“I have to get back to work,” I said after a long pause, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed that Zeke didn’t say anything back.
