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Nothing.
Just us.
I took in a shuddering breath and shoved away from him. Throwing the bags at him, I bit out, “I refuse to pay for this. Give me a week, Beck. Just give me a fucking week. I need the break to pay you off and maybe buy groceries for the first time this month.”
I took a step back as unease suddenly raced across my skin and gripped my spine.
There, I thought with a rush of panic.
In the time it took to take another step back, I’d already slid my knife from its spot at my hip. Flipping it open, I turned so the blade arced through the air at the person behind me as I spun—
And came to a halt with my blade less than an inch from the base of his neck.
I didn’t need to look down to know he had the tip of a blade pressed to my chest. I could feel it.
I swallowed thickly—Oh.
And the length of another to my throat. Hadn’t felt that at first. I forced my lips into a wicked grin.
Beck was shouting . . . or maybe whispering.
He was yelling at the chillingly beautiful man in front of me . . . or maybe he was scolding me.
I wasn’t sure.
I couldn’t focus on him or his words.
All I saw, all I knew, was the man I was having a silent showdown with.
Light green eyes set in a violent glare. Strong brow and nose, and full lips curled in a sneer. Dirty-blond hair pulled back in a low, haphazard bun. Muscular shoulders and a broad chest that strained against his shirt while still remaining lean.
Every piece of him added to his overwhelming presence.
Masculine, hard, dangerous.
But those eyes . . .
He was looking at me as though he hated me. It wasn’t the way Beck looked at me—like he hated me for the girl I had turned into . . . hated me for spurning him and giving myself to other men.
This man’s hatred was as pure as it was overpowering, and it fascinated me all the more, considering this was the first time he’d ever seen me.
Being mindful of the knife against my throat, I peered down at the thick blade pressed intimately just under my breasts. “Well, well, well . . . we sure don’t waste any time with going for the kill, now do we?”
“You’re alive,” he informed me with a low rumble.
My grin widened to hide the way his gravelly voice sent a shot of unwanted heat through my body. “And here I was, just going to nick you with my disease-covered knife.”
He didn’t move, but his eyes narrowed.
I lifted one of my shoulders. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to wash it in a tub of bleach after making the last guy bleed. I had business to take care of, as I’m sure you heard. Speaking of hearing things,” I continued quickly, not giving him the chance to speak, “it’s not nice to eavesdrop. It’s also not nice to sneak up on people. And while we’re on the subject of sneaking up on people, you need to work on remaining silent.”
“Jesus fuck, Jessica,” Beck mumbled behind me. “Stop talking. Please stop talking.”
I dropped my knife and closed it, but my movements slowed when I started putting it back into its place at my hip. Lifting a brow, I said, “It’s polite when someone drops their knife for you to drop yours as well.”
The knives pressed harder against me, forcing me back until I was pressed against the wall. He took another step toward me, bringing us closer than before
, and I looked at him from under my eyelashes with a taunt on my tongue.
