Page 89 of Toxic Temptation
“The nature of our deal,” I growl, “is to be able to sell the lie that we’re a couple. How the fuck am I supposed to do that when I don’t know the people in your life?”
She laughs humorlessly. “You’re something else, you know that? You want to sell this great connection we have, but you pull away every time I get too close. It doesn’t really make for a convincingpicture, Kovan. Can you blame me for wanting to protect myself, too?”
“I will blame you if your actions hurt Luka in any way.”
“Then hire Waylen,” she suggests. “He will only help Luka. And God knows the kid needs a strong male role model. He’s severely lacking in that department.”
The words are designed to cut, and they hit their mark. My jaw clenches so hard it aches.
“Now,” she continues, “unlock this damn car and let me out.”
I release the lock as hard as I can. She bolts from the car and storms into the hospital without looking back.
I’m left to sit there and wonder,What is this strange and uncomfortable churning in my gut?
It feels like fire. The kind that burns without respite. The kind that can consume me whole if I’m not careful.
And if I’mnotcareful, if I fuck up, if I venture too far in the wrong direction… this woman may just be the end of me.
At this point, I wouldn’t even blame her for it.
30
KOVAN
I hate him on sight.
The bastard looks like a Ken doll had sex with the cover model from a J. Crew catalog. All-American good looks, boring khakis, and a powder blue shirt that matches his powder blue eyes.
But the most galling part of seeing the man I’ve secretly loathed for the fourteen or so hours since I’ve known about his existence is the fact that he’s got his arm around Vesper.
And she doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.
She’s leaning into him, whispering something in his ear. They both laugh, and the sound slugs me like a punch to the gut.
I want to fight someone. Anyone. I need to work off this rage burning through my veins before I do something stupid.
Instead, I swallow it down and walk into La Luna’s, brushing past the servers without acknowledgment.
Neither of them notice me approaching until I’m standing right beside their table. He’s studying the menu while she pushes hishair back from his forehead like he’s a child. The casual intimacy of it makes me want to break things.
Scratch my first thought—the most galling part of this is not the way he touches her.
It’s the wayshetoucheshim.
It’s obvious they’re close. And the fact that I don’t know anything more than that is enough to drive me mad with distraction. I’d called that fucker, Osip, hours ago asking for more information on this asshole. He said he’d get back to mestat, then followed up with a vague text a few minutes ago that read only,They’re closer than I thought possible.
Fuck knows what that means.
I’m gonna skin the bald bastard alive next time I see him.
“Kovan!” Vesper looks up. “This is Waylen. Waylen, meet Kovan.”
Pretty Boy’s smile vanishes. He stands, matching my height, chest puffed out in challenge. “Nice to meet you.” His handshake is designed to send a message—firm grip, held longer than necessary.
Fine. Message received.
Vesper’s eyes flit between us nervously. She tugs Waylen back into his seat, her hand lingering on his arm.
