‘Are we friends now?’
‘Are you done being a dick?’ She stops and looks at me. ‘Having you back home is a wild time as it is.’
She returns to her task and her teeth sink into her lower lip. Excitement sparks my insides at the sight. She finishes tying off the gauze, but her fingers still grip at my arms, sending heat flooding through my veins.
‘I didn’t ask for attitude.’
‘It’s on the house,’ she quips. She lifts her chin, showcasing her neck, and my fingers twitch at the want – no, theneedto reach for her. Or maybe I’ll flip her over my knee and show her what being a brat gets her.
She’s a fucking conundrum, my Little Suspect.
Lust floods my system as she leans across my lap, bringing her face an inch from mine, and I breathe her in. Fuck, how I’ve missed that smell. Jasmine and lemons. I want to pick her up and throw her on top of the table, hike up her miniskirt and taste every inch of her.
She continues to lean down, reaching inside the first-aid box beside us, but I stop her. My fingertips graze her cheek and she closes her eyes, leaning into my touch. It feels fucking magical to have her skin against mine again. Energy buzzes between us, for us. No. It’s createdbyus.
I draw her in closer, not stopping until her sweet exhalations fan across my face.
‘Gianna …’
The delicate column of her throat pulses. Her tongue darts out, wetting her lips. Such a perfect mouth. I wonder if she’ll let me have a taste. A nip. A lick. Anything. I’ll take anything that is Gianna Brooks and devour it.
Maybe this time could be different? Maybe we could …
‘Why’d you do it?’ she whispers.
I clench my teeth, a burst of regret and rage coursing through me. I know what she’s talking about … but I still ask, ‘Do what?’
She reaches up, letting her fingers dance across my cheek before she grips my jaw and demands eye contact. ‘Why did you give up everything? You had an entire career lined up with the Sonics … it was what you always dreamed of.’
My nostrils flare. ‘Not all dreams actually matter.’
She gives a sage nod, but says nothing. The pressure from her fingers eases and I reach out, stopping her from pulling away, needing to live in this fantasy for just a little while longer. She tips her head forward, resting her forehead on mine. It’s bliss.
A loud bang interrupts our charged silence, snapping us to our feet. Gianna presses against me, and I feel her heart thudding against my body. Chuckie barks and darts off to investigate, his paws smacking against the floor.
‘Chuckie, no!’ Gianna screams, chasing after him.
My fingers wrap around her wrist and I drag her back behind me, following Chuckie’s barks ahead of her. The dogs in the kennels behind us howl and fight against the confines of their cages. The rattling sound echoes after us as we reach the front door, where Chuckie has his teeth bared and hackles raised. Gianna rushes to his side, trying to pull him back and calm him. He forms a protective stance between her and the door, not taking his eyes away from it as the battering continues and the door shakes from whoever is on the other side.
I reach for the handle, but Gianna’s hand shoots out, stopping me.
‘Wait. Maybe they’ll go away.’
The door shakes and the raging continues. Aggressively. Whoever it is, they’re fucking angry.
The door stops shaking, and I cut her a look.
‘Ryker, no—’
I twist the handle, immediately stepping out, only to be met with moonlit shadows. Then I catch sight of someone running in the distance, their trench coat flapping behind them.
I set off to chase them, but my boot lands on something hard. I pick it up and …
No fucking way.
I turn to Gianna and see her face turn pale. ‘Is this some kind of sick joke, Ryker?’ she spits, charging at me and pummelling my chest.
The wind could do more damage. I easily bring her wrists to her sides, dropping down to meet her eyes, expecting to find hate. Instead, heart-shattering sadness is there. She thrashes against my hold, her bottom lip trembling.
