“So if you’re not spying on me, what exactly is it that you’re doing here?”
“Contemplating my chances of committing murder and getting away with it.”
“That’s very unladylike of you.”
“Who said I’m a lady?”
“You look the part.” He tilted his head, studying me from his position where he languidly leaned against the wall with a drink in his hand. “At least from here.”
“Won’t you come closer and introduce yourself like agentleman?” I asked coyly. “I promise, I don’t bite.”
It was a white lie. I was a biter. But only if you asked for it.
He swaggered forward with unhurried, measured steps, his gait eating the distance between us. “Who said I’m a gentleman?”
Finally, he revealed himself.
And I sucked in a quick breath.
Light blue eyes fanned by impossibly long lashes. Straight nose with a small, faded scar at the bridge. A five o’clock shadow peppering his jaw. Black hair with a hint of a wave sitting just shy of shoulder-length. Pressed black pants and a navy blue dress shirt were poured over his muscular physique, the top three buttons undone, showcasing a silver chain looped around his corded neck, and the cuffs of his sleeves rolled up just beneath his elbows, revealing an expensive watch strapped over his thick wrist. He had an air to him, aje ne sais quoithat I categorized as upper class. But the tattoo on his left forearm thatI couldn’t properly decipher in the darkness of the night hinted at a rebellious streak.
To put it plainly, he was stunning, resembling a cross between a perennial hero from my favourite paranormal romance books and a timeless knight in shining armour from age-old fairy tales, minus the proverbial sword and protective covering.
Awed, I craned my neck back to stare up at his larger-than-life figure looming above me and suddenly…my eyes flared in recognition.
I knew this man. I’d seen him many times before.
Quickly composing myself, I cleared my throat and parroted, “You look the part. At least from here,Hunter.”
His chest bowed with an inhale. “Appearances can be deceiving.”
“Is that so?” I mused.
Hunter was a business student at Vesta University—like myself—and majoring in management with a focus on law. He was also the quarterback of the football team and best friends with Josh, who I remembered introducing us at his nineteenth birthday party last summer.
Given that our best friends were dating, Hunter and I saw each other a handful of times throughout the semesters. Though we didn’t converse much beyond the occasional casual greeting.
Plus, I noticed Hunter was a bit of an introvert. He preferred to stick to every room’s perimeter where he couldn’t be seen, while the rest of his teammates partied and basked in the attention thrown their way.
“Mhm.” He gazed at me as the late summer wind sailed against him, tousling the strands of his hair. “Whose murder are you planning?”
I hedged a saucy expression his way, letting loose a mock scandalized gasp. “Why? Are you offering to play my partner in crime?”
“Would you like me to?” He smirked before taking a swig of his drink.
I jokingly side-eyed him, still smiling. “I mean, I don’t really know you like that…”
“Try me.”
“Can you dig a grave?”
“I’ve got excellent shovelling skills, courtesy of many Canadian winters.” He arched a bemused brow. “Does that count, Gabriela?”
Oh, I liked the way he uttered my name. Softly and with intention. “It’ll do. Now how much can you lift? We’re going to have to transport the dead body from location A to Z.”
“I can lift two hundred. Give or take,” he volleyed back. “Good enough for you?”
That was quite impressive. “Yeah, sounds decent enough.”
