Page 43 of Love Me Dangerous

“Let me?”

I shake my head. “Someone has to look out for you. Since you’re so busy looking out for everyone else.”

“I’ve been doing both just fine until you showed up.”

She’s annoyed? Interesting. “So I’m the bad guy.”

“Yes.” Her eyes flash, but her annoyance is fading. She likes this game we seem to be playing.

“Saving your life really put a hitch in your plans, huh?”

Her expression turns thoughtful. “Promise me I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I give her an exaggerated shrug. Maybe it’s wrong, but irritating her is helping me reclaim at least some control over this situation.

“Zach.” The way she says my name like a moan sends a tingling jolt to my cock. Before I can get any more carried away, I turn away and keep walking.

At the end of the block, I sneak a glance over my shoulder, but Sofie’s gone. Part of me is relieved, and the other part is wondering what would have happened if I’d taken her up on her offer for a ride. My dick gives an unhelpful twitch inside my jeans.

Yes, I want to kiss her again. To cradle her body close to mine. To hear her moan my name while I take my time exploring every inch of her. I’d start with soft caresses, then when she needed more, I’d give it to her. As many times as she could take it.

Given the dry spell I’ve had, that could take a while.

I force out a slow exhale.

I tell myself it’s just lust. It’s her sass. And her tight curves. And her soft, sweet kisses. And her obnoxious curiosity. The way she treats me.

Like someone who matters.

What I wouldn’t give to turn the tables. Make hereverythingthat matters. At least for a little while.

Fuck!

I can’t be more to Sofie Whittaker than I already am.

The growl of an approaching vehicle pulls me back to the dark street and my long walk. Headlights wash over me as the vehicle nears. But instead of passing, the vehicle accelerates. I glance over my shoulder, but the high beams sting my eyes.

What the hell?

Alarm bells erupt in my brain. Before I can question what I’m doing, I take off, cutting through a parking lot. The engine roars behind me, tires eating up the gritty pavement.

I dash between two cars and then sprint for the opposite side of the lot. My backpack swings violently between my shoulders as I run. The headlights swing around until they’re centered on me. Lighting up the chain link fence ahead—a dead end.

Shit!

Who would chase me like this?

Before I landed the gig with Burnout Symphony, I did things to survive. Like running. Like stealing. I got better at hiding and knowing when it was time to move on. They aren’t skills I’m proud of, but they were necessary.

There’s no other way out of the parking lot. I’ll climb the fence. And if I can’t escape, then I’ll fight.

The headlights get closer as the vehicle races around the parked cars and heads straight for me, tires squealing. I race forward, my breaths loud in my throat and my legs burning with fatigue.

I leap onto the fencing and start climbing, but someone grabs me from behind, pulling me back. I coil up and kick, but my attacker is ready with a counter move that throws me face-first onto the ground. I roll and spring to my feet. Something slams into my side, and I go down, my knees cracking on the pavement.

I can’t breathe, but if I don’t move, I’m in for worse. I lunge forward, hitting my attacker in the middle. He’s solid, but I’ve surprised him. He grunts and stumbles back. I use the momentum like a linebacker. We crash into the front of the vehicle. Something crunches.

Another blow, this time from behind me, slams into my lower back. Pain erupts up my spine, and my knees buckle.

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