Page 13 of Coal Hearts

“We share a flat back in Brixton, you idiot. I have to get my things.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll toss your rock collection into the garden. The snails can have ’em. And your clothes...well, I’m sure your perfect family can buy you—”

“Don’t be so ridiculous, Sam. I want my stuff. I can’t afford to replace everything.”

“Should’ve thought about that before you—”

Something white flew between us and slammed heavily against the bar, knocking over the rest of the forgotten shots, splashing liquor over my slinky top.

I cringed away, blinking to the side to see who dared throw—

I froze.

Him.

The demigod from before.

The man who sent lightning bolts of warning through my blood. I didn’t know if I should scream for help or beg for mercy.

His skin was darker up close—or was that because the lights had been turned down? Either way, his harsh bone structure and stunning eyes spoke of a blended heritage. Like me. His broody grey gaze locked piercingly on mine.

The club vanished. The deafening music paused.

Who the hell was this man, and why was he interrupting one of the worst nights of my life?

“Who the fuck are you?” Sam demanded, sizing up the guy. Sam’s height had always been a turn-on. I liked that I could wear the highest heels and never fear I’d tower over him, but this guy?

He put Sam to shame—in height, muscles, and stature.

“That’s not important,” the man growled, still looking at me.

My knees resembled churned butter again.

It wasn’t fair that a man who looked like that could also sound as deep as ominous thunder.

I froze as the man’s gaze dropped to my mouth.

His smoky stare darkened before he wrenched his shoulders back, balled his hands, and shifted his unnerving focus to Sam.

For a moment, I didn’t know if he meant to clock my ex with a fist or pretzel a barstool over his head. Violence poured off him, prickling my skin with ice.

Sighing dramatically, Sam shifted and snatched up the white envelope currently soaking up cheap booze on the bar. “What’s this?” Wiping away most of the liquor, he tried to give it back. “Take it and go, asshole. Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something?”

The man merely crossed his arms, his chest as hard and as impenetrable as a brick wall. “Oh, I heard. Believe me. I heard everything.”

My heart cowered. “Everything?” Chagrin coated me. I suddenly, stupidly cared that this devastatingly handsome stranger had heard my ex compare my sexual prowess to that of a blow-up doll.

Great.

Wonderful.

My pride was damaged enough without a demigod looking at me as if I was the worst person alive in bed.

I crossed my arms, mimicking the man, doing my best to gather my flagging bravery. “If you heard everything, then you know we don’t want company. Just go and—”

“Open it. The envelope.” Not paying any attention to me, the man glowered at Sam. “Now.”

Sam’s forehead furrowed with annoyance, and for a second, I feared he’d throw the envelope at the arrogant guy’s head, but then he squeezed it, hefted it, and with curiosity flickering in his stare, carefully unstuck the seal and peered inside.