Page 27 of The Front Runner
“How is Loki today?”
I snort. I got a kick out of the nameplate when I saw it. My fingers itched to fire him off a text message about how he named a horse after himself. But for the sake of keeping our professional boundaries clear, I resisted.
“Full of piss and vinegar.” I smile as I turn, but the grin quickly slides off my face as I take in the sight of him and the hunter green bespoke suit he’s wearing. The man wears an expensive suit like he was born in it. Like whoever came up with suits as a thing was looking at Stefan when the idea struck them.
It’s borderline criminal.
The crisp white shirt underneath has a few buttons open and a perfect V of tan skin at the top of his chest shows, just below where his Adam’s apple bobs. It’s not borderline, itiscriminal. And me looking at him like this, dragging my tongue around on the barn floor, is even worse.
I don’t even know if I can blame the wine anymore this morning.
“Where are you off to looking so dapper?”
“The police station and then the city,” his voice dances with amusement as his eyes home in on mine.
I school my features. This is one of those situations where I’m better off listening than talking. “Oh?” I reply, turning to pat Farrah.
“Mmhmm. It seems they have some questions for me. Someone egged Principal Cooper’s car last night. Of course, we were all at my house having dinner. So, I just need to clarify that for them. May I put you down as a witness?”
I should argue; I don’t really want anyone knowing I was at Stefan Dalca’s house for dinner. But I don’t want to come off guilty either. “Of course.” My lips tilt up in a grimace at the white lie.
He just stares back at me, and it unnerves me to my core. I seriously hope I’m not blushing, but I can’t risk saying anything, so I blink and offer him an even bigger smile.Enthusiasm, Mira.“Hope everything goes okay.”
“Everything is going wonderfully,” he replies, his voice softening as his gaze burns across my face.
He doesn’t sound mad.Fuck. This is awkward. He couldn’t possibly know.
“Well, good luck.” I sound lame, even to my own ears. “I’ll be back tomorrow to check on them.”
I beam brightly, grab my case, mouth “excuse me” as I squeeze past him, and try to force myself to walk with a confident swagger down the barn alleyway toward the parking lot rather than sprinting away like I want to.
“Hey, Mira?” he calls out right as I reach for the door handle.
“Yeah?” I toss back into the echoey barn, continuing my forward motion.
“You owe me a carton of eggs.”
Well, shit.
10
Stefan
Loki isn’t acting quite right.While he has truly been living up to his name as the god of mischief, he seems lethargic tonight. Dopey. He was fine before dinner when I checked him, but now at ten p.m. he isn’t quite right.
I’ve been avoiding Mira this week, and I’m quite certain she’s been doing the same. The tension between us is thick enough to cut with a knife, and I don’t think either one of us has figured out what to do with that just yet. I should let her out of the remaining two dates. A better man would. But I’m greedy. I want to prove to her I’m not the evil dick they’ve made me out to be.
I just didn’t predict craving her the way that I am.
I want her back in my house, laughing and smiling. All soft and warm. I want her in my bed—even though that would ruin a few friendships on her end. And that isn’t fair.
But tonight, I need to contact her for purely professional reasons. My thumb swipes across the screen of my phone as I pull up her contact information and tap the phone icon. I watch Loki’s little eyes grow heavy on his drooping head. He looks so small and vulnerable, and I can’t stop myself from going into the stall to crouch beside him and rub his shoulder while the phone rings in my ear.
“Hello?”
It’s loud wherever she is. It sounds like she’s out having fun—after all, it is a Friday night.
“Mira, it’s Stefan.”
