grab him by the throat and make him talk! What the hell does that mean? And what the fuck? Honestly, what the ever-loving fuck is with this guy?
Kylo makes his way behind the bar, refilling glasses. He takes notice of Lincoln, his dark eyes assessing him. They exchange a look, and Kylo doesn’t seem too pleased with him. “I thought there was no smoking in here,” he whispers to me.
I nod. “There’s not.”
“So why’s he smoking?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I’ll take care of it.”
Kylo grips the edge of the crate he’d been holding tighter, smiling at me softer than before. He doesn’t look in Lincoln’s direction again.
My hands tremble as I grasp the neck of the bottle and refill Lincoln’s glass. Our eyes meet, hold, and it’s then I know he remembers last night. I lean in, my face mere inches from his. “You can’t smoke in here,” I inform him, smiling. “Actually, you can’t smoke in any bar in Washington.”
Without breaking eye contact, the corners of his lips pull into a smirk. “You gonna stop me?”
“Maybe.”
“I’d like to see you try.” He removes the cigarette from his lips, smoke enveloping the two of us in a haze of desire. I search his face, his eyes, the fiery way his lips part. Christ, can a look make you wet? If it can, it’s this one right here that does it. “If you can’t smoke, why is this here?” he asks and quickly looks away, tapping the remnant of his cigarette in the ashtray. He draws in a careful breath, his eyes downcast, calloused fingers tracing the edge of the glass. It’s damn near erotic. “Is it here to tease me?”
Is that a cryptic remark? I can’t tell. I think it might be. He steals a sideways glance in my direction. I lick my lips, winking. “To remind guys like you to put out the flame.” I straighten my spine, forcing space between us. I regard him for a moment, hoping to see a spark, something that tells me he’s here for me, but I get nothing. Instead, he sits stoically on the stool, staring at the glass behind me, the desolation in his guarded expression unmistakable. I tap my finger to the edge of the bowl. “It’s actually for peanuts.”
The air stills, and so does my heart when familiarity marks his expression. Though his gaze is distant, his impassivity stirs questions inside me. What’s he thinking?
He rubs his hand along his stubbly jaw, his stare finally settling on my face, studying me with unnerving intensity. His attention drops to his hand wrapped around a glass.
“Why’d you leave so soon?”
Emotionless specks of light fringed by jet-black lashes lift to mine. “Had somewhere I needed to be,” he says, his gravelly tone scraping along my skin like his hands did early this morning.
Probably to his fucking wife or girlfriend. It dawns on me, the realization that this meant very little to him, if anything at all, and I refuse to be that girl again. All men are awful.
I breathe out slowly, gathering courage. It’s hard to act tough when someone as pretty as this guy is watching you like they want to kidnap you. Hell, it’s hard to remember what I’m going to say next around him, but somehow, I find the words. “Fair enough.” I motion to Mal at the end of the bar. “Mal will take care of you.” And then I wink at him.
The moment I mention Mal’s name, she snaps her head in my direction, eyes wide. I pass by her and she grabs my elbow.
“What are you doing?”
“I can’t be near him,” I admit in a hushed tone. “Because I might jump over the bar and kiss him until he wipes that stupid blank expression off his face.”
Mal looks over my shoulder to where Lincoln is sitting, staring at the wall, uninterested in anything around him. “Um, no. No freaking way.”
“Why not?” Annoyed, I place my hand on my hip. “I take tables you don’t want.”
“Because… look at him.”
I blink a few times. I know what he looks like. Why would I need to stare at him? “So?”
“I don’t want to go home with him too. He’d probably knock me up with triplets.”
“Mal!” Avie yells from his office. “I need ya for a sec.”
“See?” She beams with amusement. “I’m busy. You help Mr. Super Sexy.” She sneaks one more peek at him. “Damn. I’m kinda bummed I didn’t see him first. I need a baby daddy