Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 110809 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110809 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
“Where are you from?” I ask.
“Oh, a small town in Alabama. Nowhere you’d know.”
“I knew you had a twang to your voice. I was thinking maybe Florida man.”
His eyebrows scrunch. “Shots fired. I could only dream of making headlines as ‘Florida man.’ No, I do stupid things just fine without adding that to my resume.”
I drink more and watch him, a lot of questions flitting through my mind as he watches me right back. “So why do I get the honor of the special beer?”
“I just figured I should get in good with the person who invents the cure, that’s all. Maybe I’ll get fame by association.” He finishes his bottle.
I don’t believe him for a second, but I don’t feel like calling him a liar either. It’s nice to have someone else in my apartment with me, someone who doesn’t make my stomach tight or my face flush the way Valen does. This—standing here and sharing a beer with Gage—seems almost easy compared to the minefield Valen has come to represent.
“All right.” He searches around my cabinets. “I’ve got to go check in at the barracks.”
“Beside the sink.” I point.
He pulls open the trash. “Rich people always hide their trash. That’s right.” He drops his bottle in, then moves closer, standing just askance and looking down at me. “If you’re interested in the brewery, check the label before you throw it away. See you tomorrow, Doc.” He keeps going, and I follow him to the hall.
I don’t look at the label right away. Not when I suspect it bears a secret message I’m meant to deliver to Valen. For the slightest moment, I’m a bit disappointed that Gage is here for work, not to actually share a beer with me. But I bat that vapid thought away. Of course he’s here doing his job. “Thanks again for the beer.”
“Sure thing.” He runs a hand through his copper hair and hits the elevator button. “Hope we can do it again soon.”
“I’ll take a free beer anytime.” I lean against the wall and tap my fingers along the bottle.
“Good to know. I’ll add it to my list.”
“You have a list?”
He smiles. “About you? Definitely.”
Okay, so the thing I said about not blushing in front of Gage evaporates. “I mean, that’s not creepy or anything.” I roll my eyes.
“Not creepy. I’m just thorough, is all.” His gaze slides down my body and back up, and I don’t miss the double entendre.
What the hell is happening right now? I swallow thickly, unsure of how to respond.
Thankfully, the elevator opens.
I honestly think I feel Valen before I see him.
“Get out.” He snarls at Gage, advancing on him until they’re nearly nose to nose.
I almost drop my beer. “What the—”
“I was just leaving,” Gage snaps back, the edge in his tone sharp enough to gut a man, his entire demeanor changing from one breath to the next. He sidesteps Valen and enters the elevator, then turns crisply with a smirk on his face. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Doc.”
“Stay the fuck away from her.” Valen follows him and grips the doors, preventing them from closing.
Something passes between them, something too quiet for me to hear despite my rapt attention. Then Valen steps back and lets the doors shut.
He whirls on me. “What was he doing here?”
I gape at him. “You have got to be fucking kidding. You don’t get a say in who I have in my room. I don’t even know you. You don’t know me. How many times am I going to have to tell you to get over yourself?” I spin and march back to the kitchen, finishing my beer on the way.
“He brought that?” He’s now seething right behind me.
I ignore him and find a knife, then slit the label and glance at the inside. Sure enough, there are figures in code written there. “It’s really good, actually. If you want to know where to get some for yourself, here’s the label.”
He swipes it from my hand, and it’s gone in an instant, pocketed away.
“Now, if I remember correctly, you are supposed to bring me something too.” I cross my arms and glare up at him. “Where is it?”
He looms over me, his tone eerily calm as he says, “I don’t want him alone with you in here ever again.”
“I don’t want to have to deal with your smug face ever again, but here we are.” I hold out my hand, palm up. “Sample.”
He doesn’t move.
“Unless you’ve changed your mind and will agree to me drawing your blood?” I press. “I can go get my kit right now.”
He slips his hand into his pocket and draws out a vial, but he doesn’t offer it to me. “Promise me you won’t allow him in here alone with you.”
“That’s not our deal.” I can barely contain my outrage. Who the fuck does this guy think he is? “Our deal is I do the research, you provide the blood. So either give it to me or I’m calling Juno.” I hate how fucking weak that sounds, like ‘I’ll tell my big sister on you’, but it’s all I have—and it’s an empty threat at best.