Page 26 of Law Of Love

Kaleb shrugged, taking a backwards glance at the blonde. “She's not really my type.”

Oh, I mouthed, twiddling my fingers, resisting the urge to chew my nails off. “So, then, what is your type?”

Kaleb hummed, his eyes travelling up and down my body briefly before he clicked his tongue. “I prefer brunettes. I like women who can stand their own ground. Some call them bossy, but I prefer the word self-assured. Or fiery. I like when they can keep me on my toes, and I could tell after just one minute of talking to that girl that she was none of those things.”

A chill ran down my spine at his confession, and I nodded casually as he smirked down at me.

“I would ask you your type, but I have a feeling I already know.” He continued to scan the room, glaring at a couple next to us who almost bumped into me as they danced. One look from Kaleb had them backing up immediately.

“What do you mean?” I questioned. “You don’t know my type.” Zach hadn’t been a good representation.

“Judging by how you're always staring at me, I do.”

My breath hitched.

What on earth was I supposed to respond to that? Was denying it the best route to take? Or was laughing and shrugging it off going to come across as more believable? Frankly, I wasn’t about to admit to Kaleb that he'd hit the nail on the head. He was exactly my type, but then again, I didn’t see how he couldn’t be. He was drop-dead gorgeous.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” I said before I even had time to think. Denying it, it was.

“Freya, I didn't say I minded.”

My stomach suddenly decided it wanted to take up gymnastics as a new hobby, flipping and tumbling, and I awkwardly cleared my throat. I was usually a pretty confident person, but there was something about Kaleb that made me flounder.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Kaleb continued, “I feel like I'm going to need to punch about ten different guys right now for looking at you like you're a meal. You’re the most attractive woman here by far, and they’re not being subtle about it."

I craned my neck, spotting a few men gazing at me suggestively, some just outwardly staring at my breasts with no shame. Creeps.

The guys weren't the only ones, though. It looked like the majority of the women in here were eyeing up Kaleb, and I couldn't blame them. He stuck out like a sore thumb with his impressive height and large muscles, oozing an intimidating and unbothered aura. Many women were drawn to that kind of personality—including me.

I hadn’t noticed how hot it was until I felt perspiration collect on the nape of my neck, and I fanned myself with my hand, which earned me a concerned look from Kaleb.

“Let's go outside,” he said, turning, and I furrowed my brows at the way the crowd parted for him—as if he were Moses and they were the Red Sea.

The cool air calmed me immediately, and Kaleb and I leaned up against the side of the house. A few people were lingering around outside—some smoking and some chatting and laughing—but they took no notice of us.

He took a deep breath, tilting his head back and gazing up at the stars, looking fed up. He dragged his phone from his pocket, and his lock screen caught my attention. He, with a young Brie, sat on his lap—his little sister mid-giggle as she pinched his cheeks, attempting to get him to smile for the camera. A sigh left his lips once he noticed my interest, gazing down at the photo before locking the device.

“Your mom told me what happened,” I said quietly, kicking at the ground. I wanted to apologise for sleeping in her room. I understood how much it upset Kaleb; it seemed to be the elephant in the room whenever I’d head to bed. His eyebrows would knit together, and his mouth would turn downwards every evening, and I often waited for him to call it a night before me so I could avoid his reaction.

Kaleb hummed in response, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed, refusing to look at me.

“I just wanted to say how sorry I am for staying in her room. If I’d known about it when I first arrived, I would have offered to stay on the couch. I still can if—“

“It doesn’t matter,” Kaleb responded, running his tongue along the front of his teeth. Jackie was right when she said he refused to talk about it and acted as if everything was fine. He was bottling it all up, and it was clearly affecting him.

“It does,” I muttered. “I know how hard it is for you.”

Something inside Kaleb snapped, and he turned to me with a scowl. His anger wasn’t directed at me, but I could see the hurt lingering in his coal-like eyes. “I don’t think you know what it feels like to have somebody die because of you, Freya.”

“Brie didn't die because of you, Kaleb. Your mom said—“

“She doesn't know the full story,” he interrupted me, taking a deep breath.

My mouth parted slightly, and I knitted my brows together. An awkward silence filled the air between us—thick and uncomfortable. I felt like I was choking on it, and after a few minutes, Kaleb gazed at my conflicted expression and cursed to himself.

“The people who shot Brie were really aiming for me,” he mumbled, running his hands through his hair. “I pissed them off, and they followed me. Three people died that night—one of them being my little sister, who was completely innocent.”

My face blanched.

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