Page 7 of Hot Chocolate & Hitmen

"You...you want to leave?" I finally choke out, my voice small and shaky.

Jason nods, not even meeting my eyes. "Yeah, this was a mistake. I should have just told you I didn't want to come."

On trembling legs, I move closer to him. "But why? Talk to me, Jace. If something's wrong, we can work through it together." I reach for his hand, but he snatches it away.

"I just need space."

My hands curl into fists as anger rises up to join the swirling storm of shock and hurt inside me. I straighten my spine, lifting my chin.

"No. You don't get to just run away instead of communicating with me. I deserve an explanation." My voice wavers, but I push on. "If you want to leave, fine, but you owe me the truth first."

Jason's jaw tightens, eyes flashing with something that looks dangerously close to hate. "You want the truth, Grace? Fine. I've been fucking Tina behind your back for months. And I’m done with you."

His cruel words hit me like a physical blow. I stumble back, collapsing onto the couch. I’m silent for a few seconds as my mind processes what he just said before sobs wrack my body. Jason just stands there watching me fall apart, his face an emotionless mask.

This can't be real. My boyfriend–and my best friend–betraying me like this?

I look up at him through blurry eyes. "Why?" I whisper.

Jason shrugs. "It just happened. Tina understands me better. She’s fun. You're too naive, too annoyingly happy all the time. It just…grates on my nerves."

His callous confession shreds the last fragile pieces of my heart. I spent years loving this man with my whole being. And now I'm nothing but an irritation to be discarded.

I push up from the couch–not wanting to have him looking down at me during this conversation–and swipe angrily at my tears, nausea churning in my gut.

Bang!

I jump as the front door blasts open, a flurry of snow and three large, imposing figures barging in with a hefty package and duffle bags. They sweep into the room with the cold, slamming the door shut behind them.

Shock roots me in place, and a long silence follows as I take them in–my eyes widening, jaw going slack.

The one in the center commands my attention first. His sharp, piercing eyes are an icy blue, cold and calculating as they assess me. Dirty blonde hair is shorn close on the sides yet left longer on top in an artfully messy style. His strong jaw is darkened by stubble, adding to his rugged aura. As he removes his thick winter coat, the tattoos covering his muscular arms are revealed. Black ink swirls and twists over his skin in intricate tribal patterns. When his intense blue gaze lands on mine, something dangerous flashes in those icy irises, making me shiver.

To his left is a hulking beast of a man, dwarfing the other two in size. His shoulders are massive, straining against a black thermal shirt. Shaggy dark hair hangs in unkempt waves to his collar, matching the wildness of his full beard. His heavy browis furrowed, narrow green eyes flicking suspiciously between me and the other men. The green is so dark it appears almost black, like murky swamp water. Scars slash across his face, from his temple down under his shirt. Meaty hands hang loose at his sides, fingers flexing. He looks like he could easily snap someone in half with those bare hands.

The smallest of the three has an athletic, nimble build. Messy chocolate brown waves hang over his forehead, partially obscuring a set of warm amber eyes. There’s an almost boyish innocence to his soft features that contrasts with the other two men. But the sly glint in those tawny eyes hints at cunning and mischief. His gaze darts around the room restlessly as he removes black leather gloves, revealing long dexterous fingers. When he notices me watching him, a smirk twists his lips.

My skin flushes, and I avert my gaze to the massive package they dropped at their feet, which has suspiciously started moving and groaning in a decidedly human, male voice.

My head shakes in denial, my mouth opening and closing without a word forming.

What in the name of holly and jolly is happening?

Chapter Four

The earth seems to tilt on its axis the second those mercurial eyes meet mine. It's like she’s staring straight through to my soul, seeing things nobody else ever has. It makes me want to bare it all for her, every ugly, jagged piece.

She’s a vision in a flimsy little sleep set covered in Christmas cookies that makes my mouth go dry. All sunshine curls and smooth, creamy skin begging to be touched. Her scent hits me next. Warm vanilla and cinnamon, wrapping around me like a caress. It takes every ounce of my control not to start sniffing the air like a dog.

I’ve never seen a living angel before. Everything about this girl is soft. Porcelain skin, light blonde hair, tiny yet curved in all the right places. Like she'd break if I held her too tight. But her eyes–those quicksilver eyes–they see right through me.

Nobody says anything for far too long. We weren’t expecting anyone in this cabin, and I’m about to get on Key’s ass for that fuck up when her gaze snags on my forearm. Her large, doe-like eyes widen even further as she takes in the blood trickling all the way to my fingers and onto the floor. Before I can react, she'srushing to my side, her tiny yet warm hands suddenly all over me.

"You're hurt! Here, let me help."

I stare down dumbfounded as she presses a towel to the wound, tutting under her breath about me catching infections as she leads me towards the kitchen. Her boyfriend tries to make a grab at her arm, but she smacks his hand away without even looking.

Why am I not stopping her? And why did I just smirk at her man?

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