Page 20 of Ruthless Chaos
I’m about to brave the bustling crowd once more, when I see a shadowy figure emerge from it a few steps away from me. It’s dark, but I’m able to make out enough of him.
Enough to make my breath catch and heat bloom on the back of my neck.
He stands taller than the crowd, and even though he’s dressed in a button-up and slacks, the outlines of an athletic body are obvious. His hair is buzzed at the sides and the rest of it is pushed back from his face, stopping short of his shoulders in subtle curls—it’s either brown or a dark blonde, I can’t be sure with the light.
This is the most good-looking man I’ve ever seen in my life.
When I can see him clearer, I don’t even know what to look at first.
His shirt is rolled up to his elbows, tattoos peek out from under his sleeves and wrap around his muscled forearms. As I scan his body, I notice another tattoo wraps around his neck—it is a shadowy collage of words and skulls—and a gold chain around his neck.
There’s a possessiveness to his gait that makes me think he isn’t a freshman.
I don’t know how else to describe it, but he walks like he owns the earth beneath his feet, like he’s sure of himself. It’s a little terrifying, but my racing heart doesn’t feel like anxiety.
Gosh,he’s so hot.
I’ve never had much chance to ogle guys in real life, so I make use of the opportunity. His figure sharpens and my eyes linger on his hands—they’re huge, with bulging veins.
I make my way back up to his face. His eyes come into focus.
He’s staring right at me.
Worse than that, I realize he’swalkingtoward me.
Suddenly, I’m frozen and icy tendrils of fear replace the warmth pooling in my stomach. Observing a hot guy differs totally from speaking to one, and I’m woefully lacking in that department.
His eyes are light, but full of intensity. His gaze arrests me. I find I can’t look away even if I wanted to.
Breathe, Al.
I need to stay calm.
The closer he gets, the more I shrink.
When he closes the final few steps between us, my senses light up like a string of fairy lights. He smells fresh and woody, a mix of oakwood and patchouli. My skin tingles, and warmth starts to pool in my stomach again.
I don’t even know what to focus on—him, or the way my body reacts to him?
I’ve never felt anything remotely close to this before. If I had known this is what alcohol did to you, I would have never taken that drink from Tara.
“It must be my lucky night.” His voice pulls me in. It’s deep and rich, the kind you’d hear from the narrator in a meditation app. He has an accent too, a British one.
My cheeks heat up at the thought of what he’s insinuating. I want to say something clever, but the words die in my throat.
Everything about him screamsdanger. A guy like this in a place like this is a recipe for disaster. I should run away while I still have the chance.
My feet don’t want to cooperate.
“Shy, are we?”
The handsome stranger chuckles, moving closer. He was already too close.
Now I can feel his body heat, and the smell of him is so overpowering that I can’t think of anything else. His huge body overshadows mine.
I tilt my head back to keep eye contact.
Pushing a strand of my curly hair out of my face, he leans down so that his mouth is by my ear. The tip of his fingers brush my earlobe, setting my skin aflame.
