“As a bobble head.”
The bike screeches to a halt, throwing us both forward. “L bean, put a zip on those lips.”
“Ev.”
“Fine. Not a bobble head.”Even though you are literally bobbing on a spring from side to side.
“I can hear your thoughtsEv,” Betty says pulling her tiny little bobble head face.
“What?”
“Kidding, of course. That’s fucked up. Now hold on.” She pulls forward again.
“We need to hide, Betty.”
“Of course you do. I could tell by the way you came storming out of there. What did you do?”
I look at my hands, scared to say the words.
Lizzy answers, “A troll was trying to drag Ev back to his lair, and I used magic to stop him.”
“Seems innocent enough.”
I wish that were the case.
“Not in a place that is neutral territory and prohibits magic.”
Betty sighs, “Fine. I have a place. But no one can know where it is.”
“I won’t say anything.”
“I know.” Her little bobble head hand twitches and blackness sweeps in like a raptor for its meal.
CALLUM - BLUE BALLS, LIGHT BALLS
Mybloodboilslikehot lava inside of me. It has been for some time now. Watching Knox on stage with her. With his hands on her. Watching what it does to her. Smelling her arousal. I’m typically not a jealous man when it comes to Knox and our women, but something about her… I wanted to be the one who was turning her on. Wanted to be the one causing her to whimper and flush.
She ran out of the demonstration room before I could get a chance to talk to her. To figure out who she is and where she’s from.
But she ran!
Where did she go?
The echoes of my footsteps bounce around in the hall like sounds bounce around in an empty cave, pinging off the walls, hitting me from all sides. Mocking me.
Taking in a deep breath, I let her scent fill my lungs. It’s pocketed here, against the wall. She was standing here for a minute. What was she doing? Catching her breath? Calming her rapidly beating pulse? She was standing here until she heard me coming. Rage erupts inside of me, and the wall and my knuckles feel my wrath.
“Where is she?” Knox asks, running up to me.
He’s put his slacks and black button up back on, but it’s still not tucked in.
Unprofessional.
“Tuck your shirt in. You’re on the floor.”
“Cal. Half the club just saw me in my boxers.” He stops speaking, holding his hands up in defense when he sees my eyes set on him. “Fine. I’ll tuck it in.” He slips his pants down and works on his shirt. “Where is she?” he asks again, pulling his pants back up.
“Gone! She’s gone!”
