Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
I’m just getting to the good parts when my phone buzzes with a new text, and I let out a sigh before exiting out of the app and finding my texts.
The only messages I ever get this late are work related. It’s either Marcus or Dean making sure I got home okay, or it’s one of my closing bar staff letting me know if there were any problems.
Instead, I find an unknown number, and my eyes narrow with suspicion as I open the text and quickly glance over it.
Unknown: Can’t stop thinking about me, can you?
What the fuck?
I was expecting a lot of things, but not this. It’s obviously not Marcus or Dean, and it’s definitely not any of the girls, which only leaves one option—Maddox Blake. I’d stupidly given him my number after he very thoroughly railed me down on the street the other night, and it was everything, until now.
I thought he knew the deal. I wasn’t interested in seconds. Despite what I might have led Hunter to believe tonight, I’m not looking for anything with this guy. He was a one-and-done, no matter how earth-shattering it might have been.
Unknown: Don’t leave me on read, Savage.
I laugh to myself as I type out a quick response, more than happy to spend what’s left of my night screwing with him. God, I’d do just about anything to forget about Hunter right now, and Maddox Blake seems like the perfect distraction . . . again.
Lyra: Who is this?
Unknown: Don’t play games with me. Where do you live? Let me come apologize properly.
Wait . . . what?
I sit upright so fast my head spins. Maddox knows exactly where I live, which means this isn’t him at all.
A chill sails through my bones, and as I read over the messages again, I realize there’s only one other asshole who calls me Savage—Hunter fucking Cole. But how the hell did he get this number?
Unless he was doing something in my bar that he wasn’t supposed to be doing. After all, I didn’t exactly keep my eye on him after I gave him that verbal smackdown. I figured he’d run away like a little bitch to lick his wounds. If he had somehow managed to get into the back office, it’s absolutely plausible that he could have found my details that way. And if that’s the case, that’s more than fucked up, and I should probably watch my back around this guy.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I stare at the screen. Who the fuck does shit like that? And why the hell am I finding it kinda charming? I know he’s a little fucked up, and a certifiable red flag, but it’s kinda hot that he would go that far to talk to me. And yes, I’m completely aware of how stupid that sounds, and that only makes me hate him more than I already do. I just wish he wasn’t so absolutely gorgeous. It makes resisting his insanity really goddamn hard.
Lyra: Delete my number, asshole.
Lyra: Better yet, how the fuck did you get it? I sure as hell never gave it to you.
Hunter: Come on, Savage. Put those claws away.
Lyra: You’re a psychopath.
Hunter: I thought we already established that.
Shit. I was just joking when I called him a psychopath when we first met, but every encounter with him makes me wonder if maybe I was right all along.
I don’t respond, just glare at my phone. There has to be a way for me to work this bastard out of my system.
This was supposed to be my time to cool down, but now I’m just getting worked up all over again. God, I hate him.
Hunter: What’d I say about leaving me on read?
Hunter: I like you, Lyra. What’s it gonna take for you to march that perfect ass back out and have a good night with me? I’m not working tonight. Promise, no interruptions.
Lyra: I’m not interested in your brand of insanity. Give up. It’s not gonna happen.
Hunter: That’d be a tragedy, Savage.
I put my phone down, unable to look away from the screen. That fire he ignited in me last week is back in full force, and my thighs clench at just the thought. God, why the fuck am I so desperate for a man like that?
My hands twitch on my lap, desperate to give in, to just tell him exactly where I am so he can finish this once and for all, but I won’t stoop to that level. Hunter Cole will never get the satisfaction of fucking me.
Damn it.
I throw myself to my feet and immediately pace the floor in front of my coffee table. I hate how worked up I am. I hate how stupid this man is making me. I shouldn’t be hung up on him like this. It was one really awesome date that had a terrible ending. I should be able to get over it and move on, yet here I am, stomping through my apartment like a crazed maniac.