AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Where is my fucking car?!
I ball up my fists again, punch the wall behind me, and let out a pained shout that isn’t as cathartic as I’d hoped it’d be,
"Fucking shit bag of fucking shitty fucks!" I yell again at the empty parking spot.
I'm barely two seconds into what I’m hoping to be a very long and satisfying tantrum when I feel a hand against my shoulder.
Hot, large, firm.
I spin around, curses still spilling from my mouth, as I swing my purse at my assailant.
He ducks out of the way.
I steady myself and get ready to swing again.
"Get off me!" I scream, suddenly understanding how Shi Lei had felt, adrenaline screeching through my body.
"Whoa. Whoa. Easy. It’s me, Kiara," a deep voice says.
I pull my hand back, ready to swing again.
Wait.
Did the attacker just say my name?
I look up, through the hair plastered to my forehead, focusing on the figure in front of me.
No fucking way.
I almost wish it was a stranger attacking me now.
Anything had to be better than him.
The very last person I ever wanted to see again
five
Kiara
"Kiara."
He says my name again with that fucking lazy smirk plastered on his face. Really? Two run-ins in the space of less than twelve hours? The universe is really testing my ability to hold back the urge to slap his stupid face.
Ignoring the stupid face, I’m careful not to touch him as I brush past him to step out onto the road, as if hoping my car will materialize out of nowhere, driven up by my own imaginary private valet.
Unfortunately, all that appears is a cab that swerves out of the way just in time. A hand, tight around my forearm, yanks me back, as the car disappears into the night, horn beeping angrily.
"Hey, Kiara! Be careful!" he says, his voice filled with concern.
I yank my arm out of his hold and swing around to face him. And do the thing I’d wanted to do back at my family’s bar: swear at him. "Kylian Baxter, what in the flying bag of fucking shitballs are you doing here?"
The smile on his face doesn't fade; if anything, it widens a little. His cornflower blue eyes, bright even in the dark, twinkle infuriatingly at me. The jerk looks like he's sailing a yacht in a perfume commercial while a narrator recites random words as he looks out into the beyond. Now that I’m not trying to avoid looking at him, I can see his hair is even lighter than I remember, and it just makes him even more devastatingly beautiful. Less like a caricature of a preppy frat boy, and more... manly.
All man.
It makes me hate him even more, and I didn't think that was possible.
"What in the flying fuck am I doing here?" he says, and it’s hard not to think that he’s mocking me. "Saving your life, apparently," he answers. "Aren't you too old to be crossing the road without checking both ways first?"
