Page 39 of Law Of Love

Well, that was vague.

Opening up my mouth to speak, I took a step, pretending to trip, tumbling forward and bracing my hands on Kaleb's thick thighs. He caught me, his huge hands latching onto my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh.

I gulped. Having him so close made my logic soar, and it was clear I wasn't the only one. Kaleb's nostrils were flared, and he swallowed, appearing to be holding his breath.

I needed to step away, but it was as if I was rooted to him—our cells intertwined and impossible to separate.

His thighs tensed under my touch, and the pair of dark jeans he was wearing suddenly became an enemy to me. They were the only thing between the palms of my hands and his muscles. I wanted them gone.

After allowing myself to enjoy the moment for another second, I cleared my throat, pulling back. “Sorry, I tripped,” I said, trying to brush it off, offering him an innocent smile. “I’m going upstairs. I’m in need of a shower.”

I turned and walked away without another word, hearing Kaleb inhale sharply from behind me, causing a grin to appear on my lips.

Hannah, you genius.

Nineteen: Freya

Iwas smug, to say the least. The look on Kaleb's face when he’d caught sight of me in Hannah's short shorts was priceless. She was insistent that I also pretended to be going on a date with my old friend Ty, and as Hannah had expected, Kaleb hadn’t been overly thrilled by the idea.

Two could play at his little flirtatious game.

And so far, it looked like I was winning.

I tapped my pencil against my lips as I stared down at my artwork, finally happy with a piece I had drawn. Dragons twirled around each other in some kind of strange amorous mating dance, their sparkling scales scraping against one another as they roared. It was cliché and nowhere near good enough to use as a submission for my assessment, but I was getting somewhere.

I heard mumbling downstairs—the person sounding panicked—and I dropped my pad on my bed and gazed over the landing railing. Jackie was in the living room, muttering away on her phone. Her eyebrows were collapsing in on each other as she paced from one side of the room to the other.

Padding down the stairs, I cocked my head at her. “Jackie, are you alright?”

“Freya, you scared me.” She chuckled after releasing a small yelp, clutching at her chest. “It's awards night at work, and Kaleb said he would come with me. We need to leave soon, and he's still not back. I've left two messages, but I'll have to go alone if he doesn't show up.” I sensed the disappointment in her voice, and it caused my heart to pang.

“I'm not doing anything right now,” I said, shrugging and slipping on my shoes and coat. “I'll find him for you. I have a feeling I know where he'll be.”

Hopping into my car, noticing again how much smoother it ran, I headed off toward the shooting range. The likelihood of Kaleb being there was high.

I parked outside the shifty-looking building, shivering as I stepped out of the car, the wind gusting through me. The area was pretty bare, so there was nothing to shield me from the blast.

I rushed in, the young red-haired receptionist peering in my direction briefly before dropping her gaze. She was leaning back in her chair, chewing on her gum loudly, my presence having not bothered her one bit.

How did this place even stay open if they charged no one to shoot? Did they really make all their money from selling alcohol at the bar? It didn’t seem likely.

The usual sound of guns blasting reached my ears, and I hurried down the narrow corridor to push open the door to the main hall. It was busy today, and I gulped, taking in the sheer amount of beefed-up men sporting tattoos and bald heads.

Beer coated the floor, making it sticky, and men laughed in every corner as they talked over each other, desperate to be the centre of attention and assert their dominance.

I wandered around the room, noticing a few older men turn and tap their friends to draw their attention to me. I didn't belong here, and I looked like a deer in the headlights as I tried my best to weave in and out of people without being spotted.

It didn't surprise me I was being stared at, though. I was dressed in an old T-shirt two sizes too small without a bra—having not even thought about it before I left the house.

Yanking my coat over my chest to cover myself, I stopped in my tracks when a bearded man stepped out in front of me, clutching onto a large handgun. He waved it around, wiggling his eyebrows at me.

“What's a pretty lady like you doing here?” he said, his words merging to form one almost incoherent sentence. Obviously drunk. “We don't get too many of those. The women here usually look like men themselves.”

All his friends laughed from behind him, and I crossed my arms over my chest. “Yeah, alright. Excuse me, I'm looking for someone.” I attempted to move past him, but he chuckled, blocking my path.

“Woah, woah, hold up. I just want to talk. There's no need to be rude.”

I narrowed my eyes into slits. “Actually, there is because you're in my way.”

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