A knock at the door jolts me. I shove the notes under my pillow in a rush.
The moment I open the door, an infuriating biker pushes past me, arms full of books. He dumps them all on my bed with a grunt, then spins around to face me.
I raise a brow.
“What the hell is all this?” I ask, gesturing to the books now taking over my bed.
His eyes narrow, and he crosses his arms over his chest.
“You were full of shit,” he growls, voice full of accusation. Then he jabs a finger at the books. “These are all books with third tries.” He sucks in a breath, almost looking betrayed. “You said there were none. What was it you said?” He tilts his head like he’s thinking. “‘Not even fiction can stretch that far.’”
I lift my chin. “How do you know they’re third chance?”
“Because I do my research, adorable,” he murmurs, stepping toward me. I sidestep.
“I haven’t slept in three fucking days reading this pile.” He takes another step, voice lowering. “And like I said — you were full of shit.”
I glance at the pile. “You read all these in three days?” I hate how impressed I sound.
He straightens, glaring at me. “Stop avoiding the subject.”
I glare right back at him, crack my neck, and move toward the books. Fuck him for fact checking me! I pick one up and look at the cover. Then I turn to Ghost and slap it against his chest.
“The hero rejects the heroine —his soulmate— in this one. For another fucking woman. Then he wounds the heroine to save that woman. And finally, after the heroine miraculously gives him another chance, he rejects her again. Publicly. Humiliating her and almost killing her.” I slap the book against his chest again. Harder this time. “She shouldn't have taken him back. He didn’t deserve it.”
“He was blackmailed by his father,” he shoots back, voice hot with outrage.
I turn and pick up another book, anger rising.
“The hero in this one marks the heroine against her will. And then he fucks her in front of his men. And then he chains her to his bed. And as if that isn’t enough, he kills her entire family.” I’m almost yelling now.
“He’s an orc,” Ghost says, face serious.
“What?” I blink, confused.
He sighs deeply. “He’s an orc, adorable. You can’t judge him by human standards.”
“Ghost is right,” Domino’s voice makes me jump.
I spin toward the door and see him standing there, eating peanuts from a bowl, eyes curious.
“How long have you been standing there?” I ask, startled.
“Long enough to know Ghost is right. An orc is an orc. Of course he’ll follow his orc instincts.” He pops more peanuts into his mouth.
Ghost nods in agreement.
“Are you fucking eavesdropping?” I snap, already marching toward him.
He shrugs, totally unbothered. “You left the door open. I heard you when I was passing by. Got curious.”
I shove him out and slam the door in his face.
Then I turn on Ghost, eyes spitting fire.
I stomp back to the bed and pick up another book, trying to make him see reason.
“The asshat in this one uses the heroine as his fuck buddy when heknowsshe’s in love with him. And he goes to public events with other women, hurting her. Then, when she gets pregnant by accident, he threatens her. Scares her so badly she runs away.”
