Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 57139 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57139 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Ezra’s laugh was cold, humorless. “Cute. You think you’re protecting her?”
Aaron’s fist connected with Ezra’s jaw before I even processed what was happening.
“OH MY GOD!” My shriek cracked through the music—just in time for Ezra to swing back and nail Aaron in the ribs. Aaron stumbled, crashing into a table full of leather-clad bikers. Beer bottles toppled. Glass shattered.
The bikers stood as one, their table creaking under the weight of spilt whiskey and pure testosterone.
“Oh, hell,” I whispered, right as Aaron lunged again. Ezra met him halfway, their fists colliding with the sound of thunder.
Lila screamed, hands flailing uselessly. “Ezra! Stop it! You’re acting like animals!”
But the crowd was loving it. Phones out. Shots being chanted like it was Fight Night instead of Friday Happy Hour. “Hit him! Hit him! HIT HIM!”
Someone shoved past me, nearly knocking me into a barstool. My grip tightened on the nearest thing I could reach—oh great, a steak knife. Perfect. Totally casual accessory.
The bartender leaned over the counter, unfazed, wiping down a pint glass like this was just Tuesday. “Get them the hell out before they wreck my place.”
Security finally plowed in, dragging Ezra back by the arms while Aaron spit blood onto the floor, still lunging forward. Both looked like they’d rather die than stop.
Lila threw up her hands, shrieking over the din. “You’re all insane! Completely unhinged!” Then she spun on a stiletto heel and stormed toward the door, snapping at her phone until a cab screeched to the curb.
But of course, she couldn’t resist one last parting shot.
“Look, thanks for helping me with the whole brand-new laptop thing—and for being paranoid enough to worry I’d buy the wrong program or RAM or gigabytes or…teradatycles? Whatever. The point is, yeah, you’re clearly good at your craft, Ezra. But honestly?” She swept a hand toward all of us, eyes flashing. “It was just an excuse to see you. And it’s not worth turning into a meme. Even I have my pride.”
She tilted her head, delivering the killing blow. “Some of us need to grow up. And for the love of God—a computer is a computer. PC or Mac. Does it really mean life or death?”
Oh. Shit.
She went there.
Even Aaron took a step back.
And Ezra? Rage full-on descended. The StarGate opened and it was not closing anytime soon.
I swear I saw Babylon 5 fly past his eyes. Followed by Deep Space Nine. Images of all things Sci-Fi Channel, laptops, and graham crackers—the cinnamon kind—just erupted. She hadn’t just insulted him. She’d spit on the holy trinity of Ezra: computers, Star Trek, and snacks.
“Wow,” Aaron muttered under his breath.
“Fuck you, Aaron!” Ezra roared, lunging like a man possessed.
I scrambled between them, arms flailing, adrenaline and hysteria crashing through me. “ENOUGH!” I jabbed a finger at Aaron. “I’ll call you when we aren’t in public yelling.”
Then I turned my glare on Ezra. “Don’t follow me unless you want a machete up your ass.”
I sighed, already stomping away, but threw one last bone over my shoulder. “And I’m sorry she slut-shamed your laptops and crapped all over The Stargate. I’m still pissed, but…not cool. So not cool.”
I stormed home, my boots cracking against the sidewalk, rage carrying me up the cursed staircase to the apartment I suddenly hated. Cheap rent, neon sign screaming creativity, and network contracts carved into my skin like shackles.
“Thanks a lot, Grandma,” I muttered, storming to the bathroom as if I could wash away everything else—the cameras, the humiliation, the sheer insanity of tonight.
“Harper.”
Ezra. It was Ezra.
I froze.
“Harper.”
It was sharper this time, more insistent, and it slammed straight into my ribcage. My heart lurched, hammering against my throat as I spun.
Ezra filled the doorway. Jaw already bruising from Aaron’s punch, eyes darker than midnight, shoulders set like he was ready to take on a war.
He had no right. No right looking that dark and dangerous after a bar fight—like some avenging angel who’d forgotten which side he was on. No right standing there with his lip split and his gaze burning holes in me over…laptops. Laptops and lies.
My mouth went dry.
“We need to talk.”
“I’ve talked. You’ve talked. This is why we’d never work. This is why I stayed away. This is why I drew the line in the sand—the line you so stupidly crossed in the name of saving me. Guess what? I can save myself! I could’ve hired an actor. But no. You had to swoop in. What is this, Ezra? A savior complex? Or did you just not want me to find the perfect guy?” I threw my hands up, flailing them actually, letting them punctuate the words that spilled out.
His voice was calm. Terrifyingly calm. “I’m the perfect guy.”
I froze.
“And there’s no chance in hell I’m letting some other man touch what’s mine. What’s been mine. The line you drew?” His mouth twisted into a dangerous half-smile as he stalked toward me. “Fuck your line. Try as hard as you want, Harper, I’ll decimate it every single time. Build a wall. Build ten. I’ll tear them down. I’m not walking away. Not now. Not ever.”