608 Alpha Ave - Adriana Locke Page 0,14

work,” he says, looking straight ahead. “We both want respect. We both enjoy the company of a woman. I think, for the most part, those things make a lot of men tick, as you put it.”

His arm brushes against mine as I sidestep a thorn bush. The contact is enough to flip a turbo booster on my libido.

His gaze falls to me. This time, he searches my eyes for something that I can’t quite discern.

“Which brings me to my next question,” I say. “Why do men prefer thongs and red lips?”

The search stops, and he shakes his head. “They don’t.”

“Oh, I think they do. I know they do. Trust me. I’m on this side of it.”

“And I’m on this side of it, so you should trust me.”

We take a few more steps down the trail until it stops. The lake I remember from my childhood is sparkling in front of us. A small beach filled with as many rocks as it has grains of sand creates a welcoming cove in the midst of the lush forest surrounding it.

“But men don’t even see me, Grayson,” I say, my voice softer. “It’s like I’m a perpetual wallflower. And, if by some grace of God they do spy me as I’m blending into my surroundings, I’m just a … a speed bump they haul ass over as they get to whatever destination they’re aiming toward. And that end point is not me. Ever.”

He looks at me, puzzled. “Are you fucking with me?”

“What? No. I’m being serious right now. This is what I want to know. Well, one of the things, but it’s a great starting point.”

His fingers clench around the straps again.

I wiggle under his stare, the weight of it too intense to bear. He makes no bones about taking me in, searching every last bit of me.

“Grayson …” I say finally.

He drops his hands from his shoulders. “You really think that?”

I roll my eyes.

“Fine. I’ll break this down for ya.” He runs his tongue around the inside of his cheek. “You aren’t a speed bump. You’re no fucking wallflower. Girls like you are it—you’re the prize at the end of the game.”

My mouth goes dry.

I’m the … what?

His tone lowers. “Some dudes won’t want the prize—they aren’t ready for it. So, they’ll get a taste of what life will be like someday if they ever find a woman like you that’ll have them and all their fucked-up-ness. Other men will be too scared of you to even say shit because they know they don’t deserve you and fear that you’ll discover that and make them feel even more worthless.”

I blink. Twice. Three times.

I hold my breath and wait for the punchline. I wait for the or, the but, the and then there’s the other guy … but he doesn’t say anything else.

My head spins. My brain threatens to explode. My heart pumps blood so fast throughout my body that I think I might pass out.

The only thing that keeps me on my feet is the stare of the gorgeous man in front of me. Who is this man with so many words? Because, what the hell?

His eyes shine with sincerity. The blue streaks that I now know exist sparkle amidst the grays. The smirk that I usually see on his lips is replaced with a soft, slow smile that melts my heart into liquid goo.

“So, I’m a prize?” I say, feeling like I need to say something.

The words break the tension, and he laughs.

“Which guy are you?” I tease. “You’re the one who doesn’t want the prize, aren’t you? You’re not ready for a woman like me.”

He takes a step back and takes his backpack off. He holds it at his side, the white of his knuckles making the ink staining them pop.

“That’s okay,” I say, walking by him. “That’s what guys like Bryant are for.”

The hair on the back of my neck stands straight up. I turn around to see Grayson looking at me, his eyes wild.

“What?” I ask, oblivious to what caused the change in his mood.

He grins. It’s not the easy, comfortable smile from a moment ago. It’s deeper. Darker. Seductive.

I swallow a moan and reach for the trunk of a tree beside the path.

“Guys like Bryant, huh?” he asks, each word punctuated.

The confident woman I’m truly not chooses this moment to reappear. Emboldened by the heat of Grayson’s gaze and the grittiness of his voice, I bat my lashes.

“Well, guys like Bryant aren’t afraid to at least taste

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