Page 26 of Stick Handled

“I believe this is on your little reading list.” He holds the book up with a smug grin.

“You… brought me a book?” I stare at the book, then at him, stunned.

“You look surprised.” His eyes glint with amusement as he steps forward, just enough to invade my space.

My brain short-circuits for a second. I hadn’t realized he’d even remembered that list. There's no way I’d ever expect Damien to not only remember it but actually do something about it.

“A little, yeah. I didn’t think you’d actually…” I swallow hard, my heart hammering in my chest as I force myself to meet his gaze.

“Read?” he cuts me off with a chuckle, his voice low and teasing. “Come on. Give me a little credit.”

“And you’ve read this?” I ask, still trying to wrap my head around this whole situation.

His eyes darken, just a hint, as he steps inside without waiting for an invitation. He shuts the door softly behind him. “Would it really surprise you that much, Avery?”

“Honestly… yeah. A little,” I falter.

“I don’t look smart enough to read?” He cocks a brow.

“It’s not that, it’s just… I didn’t think you’d bother.” I cross my arms over my chest, trying to put up some kind of defense against the way he’s looking at me.

“You’d be surprised what I bother with.” His eyes darken, a flicker of something unreadable passing over them before his smirk returns. His eyes drift to the book in his hand. “This one, though… it’s actually good.”

I eye him warily, trying to gauge his angle. “So, you’re just bringing me a book that I want out of the goodness of your heart?”

“No. Not quite,” he admits, his eyes full of mischief.

Of course not. There’s always something with Damien.

“There’s a catch,” he says, his voice dropping an octave, drawing me in. “You want the book, then you have to do something for me.”

My breath catches in my throat, the tension between us thickening with every second that passes. He’s too close. Too calm. Too… everything.

“What do you mean?” I feel heat crawl up my neck, and I hate how easily he does this to me, how he turns my world upside down with just a few words.

“I mean, I want something in return.” His voice is smooth.

“There’s always a condition with you.” My pulse spikes.

“You’re catching up fast, little liar.” He smirks, leaning a little closer, so close I can smell the faint trace of his cologne. Then he laughs softly, stepping closer until he’s towering over me, the heat of his body filling the space between us.

“One drink. Have a drink with me, and the book’s yours.”

I freeze, my heart hammering. My mind races, searching for an excuse, an escape, but nothing comes.

“I don’t… I don’t really drink,” I stammer, hating how small my voice sounds.

“Oh, I know.” Damien tilts his head, amusement dancing in his eyes.

My stomach twists, and I force myself to hold his gaze. “Then why are you asking?”

“Because…” He steps even closer, close enough that I can feel the warmth of his body radiating off him. His eyes flicker with something dark and teasing. “I want to see how far you’ll go to get what you want.”

The air between us is charged, like static before a storm. I’m caught, trapped by the intensity of his gaze and the challenge in his voice. He’s toying with me; I know that, but it doesn’t make the effect any less potent. Every part of me is screaming that this is wrong, that I shouldn’t be standing here, inches away from him, contemplating anything that involves Damien.

I swallow hard, my pulse hammering.

“I’m not going to drink with you,” I finally manage to say, but my voice wavers, betraying me.

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