Page 25 of Who's Saving You
Dane and I finished our meal, and he left for the night. I hung back, scanning the second-floor crowd until I saw she was still here, eating with that junior producer. Deciding to push a bit more tonight, because I might as well make it worse for myself, I grab a seat at the bar, in the corner, and wait. Thirty minutes later, I see her head for the door, and when she stops on the sidewalk, I follow her out.
“So what? You can’t say hello?” She’s as cool as ever, not even flinching when I come up behind her.
“You were eating. I wasn’t going to interrupt.”
“Mm. Interrupting would be you pulling a chair from the table next to us, sitting down, and helping yourself to my mashed potatoes. A friendly acknowledgment would be a wave or a smile as you walk by.”
She narrows her eyes. “Is there a reason you’re following me?”
“Do you want there to be a reason?”
“You answer every question with a question?”
I chuckle. “Seriously, though. You saw me. You chose not to say anything. Why?”
She shrugs. “You got a taste of your own medicine, and now you don’t like it. Kind of like how we’re supposed to be doing an article and you’re either late or not saying a word.”
“Maybe I just don’t like your questions.”
She steps back from me, and I take in her legs. I dream about them being wrapped around my head. “Oh, yes. That’s my fault. I’m not sticking to the script.”
I raise a brow. “There’s a script for a reason, Moreno.”
“Maybe the world deserves to see the real Nik and not the Saint Nik you’ve created.”
I hold her stare. The tension between us crackles, and I’ve yet to figure out why it just gets stronger. She’s looking at me like she knows something, or thinks she does, but all I can picture is stripping her naked and having my way with her in the backseat of my truck. Seeing her that night in the hotel hasn’t left my mind. I was too broken by the game and too willing and trusting to let her in. I had to walk away.
“It’s been a pleasure,as always,but you don’t get to follow me out into the street and throw your charm at me like a lasso, trying to pull me in.”
“No one’s ever complained about my charm before.”
“It’s notcharmI’m looking for.” She raises a brow and takes two steps until she’s in front of me. She runs her finger along my shoulder. “Don’t chase me down again, Nik. Not unless you’re ready to talk.”
The tension grows even thicker, and when a car horn blares in the distance, it breaks the connection. She taps my chest, spins on her heels, and begins to walk down the sidewalk away from me, leaving me standing there watching.
I close my eyes and sigh, realizing I'm standing out inthe open. I quickly walk back through the restaurant and out the back to my truck, shedding my tie and jacket and throwing on my oversized hoodie and hat. I check my watch, realizing I need to get to the club and see Dante, putting the game and her behind me.
Focus, Nik.
I pull out, and the engine hums beneath me as I idle at the curb, window cracked, one hand draped over the steering wheel. The city's quiet tonight, but it never stays that way for long.
I catch movement ahead of me, and I strain my eyes to see. Down the block, half in the shadows, there are two guys pressed up against a woman. They loom over her, making her look small, but she’s not a child. I narrow my eyes, trying to see in the dark. She’s fighting back. Every time they grab her arm, she snaps it back and tries to push past them, but they’ve got her boxed in. This doesn't look like a mugging. This is something worse.
I kill the lights and throw the truck into park without thinking. I shouldn’t be out here; I should just keep driving. Instead, my door swings open, and I hit the pavement hard. My blood's already boiling. I pull my hoodie up over the hat on my head, trying not to be seen.
“Hey!” My voice cuts through the night like a knife.
The two assholes freeze. The woman has dark hair and a coat wrapped tightly around her. She looks at me quickly, but I can’t focus on her. I need to watch these two and make sure they don't get the upper hand on me.
I walk toward them, slow and steady but prepared for anything.
One of them steps forward, too cocky for his own good. “This ain’t your business, man. Keep walking.”
But I don’t listen and continue until I'm right up on them.
“It’s my town, so it’s my business.”
Tough guy laughs and shakes his head. “We’re just talking.” His disgusting grin even givesmethe chills. When I continue to stare him down, he swings first, which is a big mistake. I block him and grab his arm, slamming his face into the side of the building. The second one lunges at me, but I drive a knee into his gut, then drop him with a punch to the side of his face.
