That energy is still storming through my veins when my eyes land on the enormous estate before me.
The sidewalk winds up to grand steps that lead to a white door with a gleaming, old knocker. I pause there, thrown off guard from the blatantly expensive home. The bushes framing the steps on each side swirl in an unusual cut, making them point at the top to the blue skies above.
Every single detail is over the top and attention demanding.
Where the fuck did he bring me?
I was ready to sleep in an abandoned warehouse two days ago.
“What—What the hell are we doing here?” I whisper the words over my shoulder to him as if I’m afraid the occupants of the home might hear me.
My feet refuse to move farther. This has to be some sort of mistake.
Or worse.
A trap.
The doors burst open and I take a step back. Then I see him; Jameson jogs down the steps to me. Gray sweat pants cling to his cut waist. The thin material doesn’t do a thing to hide the outline of his body. Dark script lines his right side, scrolling across his ribs in a delicious way. A sweet but sexy smile pulls at his lips.
His loud voice makes me flinch when he speaks.
“Welcome home, Al.”
Eleven
Her Past
God,if he could make any more commotion.
Does he want everyone to know he’s here? How the hell did the Lifeless League not murder him years ago?
I look both ways down the quiet street. Sculpted trees line the flawless sidewalks and perfectly manicured lawns are all that can be seen. Not a single soul is in sight.
That doesn’t mean no one is watching though.
My boots storm up to the steps, and I grip his arm and haul him up the three curving steps to shove him back inside.
“Mmm, if you missed me you could just say so, Lex. Though I do like when you show me you’re in charge.”
I forgot how obnoxious he is. Somehow, I managed to block that out in the twenty-four hours since I’ve seen him last.
I release him, my fingers lingering slightly on the defined veins of his forearm for only a second. His skin is smooth beneath my touch. That taunting smirk of his is still held right in place.
Mouse slowly strides in, pushing the door closed behind him.
His dark gaze flickers between me and his friend.
Friends.They’re friends… how odd.
It must be interesting to have someone who looks out for you. Someone to spend time with. Someone who shares common interests.
How weird it must be.
The two of them are quiet as my attention trails over the high ceilings. Crisp white details trim the walls. A rug of deep red is made of the finest threads at the center of the room. I’m terrified to take a single dirty step onto it. Furniture that looks like it’d be a pain in the ass to relax in sits in the middle of the entrance room. They face the entrance as if someone might casually sit there and stare at the door for happy hours on end.
What the fuck kind of place is this?
“Whose house is this, Jameson?”
