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EVERLEIGH
The behemoth of a man pulls me up the basement stairs and into the warmth of his home. I drop his hand and pause, staring at the uncovered windows.
Windows I know Fran stalks him through.
I feel him studying me. “What’s wrong?” he asks, stepping back.
“She watches you,” I murmur. Fran’s become obsessed with this man, ever since he closed the door in her face. It wasn’t only the rumble of his bike that usually alerts me to his presence, but the primping and preening Fran does. The few times I’ve stepped out of my room, I caught her watching his house and staring at him through the windows.
“Shit,” he mutters, crossing the room and pulling the blinds down. It’s not out of character. I sometimes I hear her bitching about them being closed, so I don’t worry too much.
When he turns back toward me, I feel my heart stutter in my chest. Not out of fear or uncertainty. It stutters because the man standing in front of me is a fucking Adonis.
My brain malfunctions, causing my face to heat. I reach an icy hand to the hot cheek, letting the warmth spread down my arm and throughout my body, banishing the cold I was shivering from moments ago.
Holy moly.
Now I understand why Fran was completely obsessed with him. I would be surprised if she was his only stalker.
The man is much taller than I initially thought. But it’s not just his height I am in awe of. It’s…everything. The way his tight black tee emphasizes the sheer size of him, from broad shoulders to his trim waist. He takes care of himself, and I can’t help picturing a sweaty version of him, curly at the waist to keep fit.
I let my eyes travel along the tattoos that peek-a-boo beneath his shirt, moving upward towards the scruffy beard covering his jawline. My palms itch to feel whether it’s as soft as it looks. He stands still, with his hands on his hips, like he’s allowing me to appreciate his maleness.
I find myself mesmerized by his icy blue gaze. I don’t think I’ve ever seen eyes as blue as his, darker than the sky but brighter than the night. There’s a familiarity with them, pulling me in deeper and deeper.
“I didn’t see anyone” He trails off, the heat of his gaze on my face, my body, taking in the missing details from before. I must look a mess to him. “Wildcat…”
The sweet pet name causes my breath to catch in my chest. As much as I like it, I can’t believe we haven’t exchanged names.
He’s a stranger to me.
And yet… I feel safer in this strange man’s kitchen than I have felt in a long time.
“What is your name?” I asked, moving my eyes from him to the large room around us. It’s much brighter than the dump next door, but I’m sure that has everything to do with the construction that recently wrapped up a couple of weeks ago.
“I’m Kohen. The guys call me Vortex, though. It’s a club thing,” he explains. “What’s yours?”
“Everleigh,” I tell him, feeling a little less awkward now. I like his name and use my next sentence to test how it feels on my lips. “It’s nice to meet you, Kohen. Or should I call you Vortex?”
Kohen steps forward, walking past me toward the hallway behind us. “Kohen’s good. I like the way it sounds on your lips,” he murmurs, before shaking his head and clearing his throat. Did he mean to say that last part out loud? “It’s good to meet you, too. Now, if you’ll follow me, I’ll get you sorted.”
“Sorted?”
“Yeah, a hot shower and some dry clothing.” He doesn’t stop, simply throws a look over his shoulder that has my feet squishing in my wet tennis shoes. I toe them off before stepping on the plush carpet, not wanting to track anything across it.
The layout might be the same as what I am used to, but it’s the differences in the details that keep me grounded. Because I know what’s down at the end of this hallway—the master bedroom. The one room I never allowed myself to step foot into at home.
“I only have this one room set up,” he explains, and I wonder if he can read my thoughts. Then again, I’ve never been good at hiding them—unless it’s Fran. I’ve trained myself to look and act only a certain way around her. “Come on.”
I frown before noticing I stopped moving and was standing in the middle of the hallway. I look at the door next to me and sigh. I stopped out of instinct. This door would be mine back at home. Shaking off the feeling of uncertainty settling into my bones, I push forward with one tentative step.
“I will not hurt you, Everleigh.”
“Am I that transparent?”
He shakes his head, offering me a gentle smile before pushing off the doorjamb and stepping into the room. “No, wildcat. It’s good for you to be cautious. Even with me.”
I cross the threshold into his bedroom and am met with Kohen’s scent. It’s woodsy, like pine, and something deeply earthy. The room is dark in contrast to the rest of the house. The walls are painted a deep red, with accents of black and gray throughout. I can see the thought put into each piece of furniture and scrap of fabric. It’s like walking into one of those fancy catalogues I’ve seen in the library.
