Make My Move (Hannaford Prep #5) - J. Bree Page 0,92

the balcony for interrupting us, or for existing in the first place, but I have nothing left to say to her tonight.

Not without telling her how fucking badly I want her.

She doesn’t say a word. I’m not really expecting her to jump into our conversation, she’s never shown any interest in sports or cars before, and she just sits and stares out at the city lights. It’s the calmest I’ve seen her since we hit the city limits, like we’re up here in a little bubble together where none of the dirty, messy, violent parts of her hometown can touch her.

At some point, Blaise gets up and walks back into the room to take a leak. He hesitates for a second before squeezing her shoulder as he moves past, his eyes on the ground as he scampers away like a fucking coward.

I’ll call him out on it later.

I wait for a second to see if she runs away or has something to say but when the silence stretches out, I hold the bourbon out to her. “Drink?”

She grabs it and takes a swig straight from the bottle. I quirk an eyebrow at her, expecting some snark or fire back, but all she gives me is a tired look, one she’s way too young to be so damn good at. “I need a hell of a lot more than a glass can hold right now.”

“Not happy to be home?”

She scoffs at me. “Cut me some slack. I just found out Doc’s grandkid is going to be brutally murdered just because she can’t remember to take a damn pill.”

She groans and hangs her head, misery clinging to every inch of her.

I instantly want to fix every problem she’s ever had. “This Matteo will kill her instead of just getting rid of the baby?”

“He doesn’t exactly value life, in any form.”

Well, that’s fucking bleak. I nod slowly and look back over the lights so I don’t have to keep watching her, losing my goddamn mind over her. “I’ll pay. Get her out and I’ll pay for the costs.”

There’s a stunned silence for a second, one I refuse to be pissed at because of course it’s a shock to her that I’d give enough of a fuck to attempt to fix this. Fuck, I’d attempt to fix it even if she weren’t so fucking miserable about it. When she stares at me like she’s never seen me before, I give her a sidelong look back, taking what’s left of the blunt from the ashtray.

I hesitate for a second before offering it to her, but she waves me away. I should attempt to deflect her away from me for a second, but I can’t bring myself to do it. “I’m not a fan of domestic violence or women being killed. Besides, you just saved Joey. I owe you.”

She takes another swig of the bourbon, squeezing her eyes shut like she’s in pain and I’d like nothing more than to wipe it away for her. To just reach over and take the bottle, pull her into my arms, and have her riding my dick until she can’t think about any of this shit.

Her voice is nothing but a croak as she hands me back the bottle. “Thanks. I’ll reach out to her.”

I shrug and lift the bourbon to my lips, enjoying her eyes following the action as I drink straight from it just like she had done. Her eyes turn molten when I swipe my tongue across my lips, chasing any taste of her that I can because I’ll never fucking forget how sweet she really was.

It’s all I can think about.

She stands up and steps back through the door like a startled rabbit, and I know I’ve won something. I look back out at the city lights so I don’t chase after her.

She hesitates in the doorway for a second and says, “You don’t owe me. I did it for Avery and if you’d just stop hating me, I’d do it for you, too.”

My eyes don’t waver from the lights of the city because I can’t look at her right now without her reading way too fucking much all over my face.

All I can do is nod at her and pray she knows what I’m trying to say.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Blaise

If I had any sense at all, I’d start avoiding Lips like the fucking plague, but I’m obsessed with her. Fuck, it’s pathetic how desperately I want her. I’m obsessed with the shape of her lips when