Slay (Storm MC 4)

When I placed it in front of him a couple of moments later, he asked, “Who’s the redhead?”

Momentarily confused, I frowned. “Who?”

He jerked his chin toward the bar. “The little redhead you were just talking to.”

Annie.

“She’s my cousin.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why?”

He shrugged. “I like to know who all the players are.”

“Who all the players are? What the fuck?”

“Layla, you’re in some serious shit here. I’m keeping an eye on everyone involved, so when I see a new face, I like to know who we’re dealing with.”

Seriously?

I pulled the spare seat back and sat down, glaring at him. “I’ll tell you who the fuck we’re dealing with, Donovan. Her name’s Annie and she’s my cousin. I’ve just moved her in with me to get her away from her deadbeat asshole of a boyfriend. Annie is the sweetest girl, but she struggles in life due to the shit her father dealt her growing up. She has absolutely nothing to do with Mario so you can stop wondering about her. Annie wouldn’t hurt a fly.” My pulse sped up, racing through my body while my heart pounded in my chest. I wouldn’t have Annie involved in this shit.

He shifted forward in his seat and dipped his head a little to bring his gaze closer to mine. “I didn’t think she would. I’m more concerned about Mario sniffing her out if he comes back here. That he’d use her against you. Anyone can see the girl is vulnerable.”

Shit.

I slumped in the chair, my body returning to its normal state. Some days it just felt like all the shit was piling up and I had no way out from under it. “Does life ever get to you?” I asked. He seemed so in control all the time.

He stared at me. I couldn’t read him, though. Couldn’t figure out what thoughts were running through his mind. Finally, he admitted, “Some days, yes.” And down came his guard a little. The hard lines of his face softened, and as he scrubbed a hand over his face, I noticed his exhaustion.

“Only some days?”

His lips curved into a small smile. “Perhaps more often than that.”

“I don’t know, Donovan...It just seems like every time I think life is going well, shit happens and screws it up. The two steps forward turn into three steps back some days.”

“Diamonds are made under pressure,” he murmured, eyes glued to mine, and I held my breath for a moment as I processed what he’d said. No one had ever given me a compliment like that, and I didn’t know what to make of it.

As I scrambled for what to say, he continued, “No one calls me Donovan anymore. I like it on your lips.” He drank some more of his scotch, eyes still on me.

God, he was something else. I’d never met a man like him. One who had the ability to make me want him even when I wanted nothing to do with him at the same time. One who threatened to set my panties on fire with words alone.

“I prefer it to Blade. How’d you get that name?” I asked.

He finished his drink, and carefully placed the glass back on the table before looking at me. “Probably best if I don’t share that story with you.” The intense way he looked at me sent shivers through my body.

I really wanted to know that story.

“Try me,” I challenged.

His eyes searched mine, looking for what, I wasn’t sure.

“Not much surprises me anymore, Donovan,” I added.

“Yeah? You’d be surprised at what surprises me.”

“Like what?”

“Like discovering I’ve been drinking at a bar for a year or so now, and never knew that the woman serving me drinks would turn out to be the most fascinating woman I’ve met in eight years.”

I couldn’t see them, but I was sure my eyes must have bulged out of my head. I didn’t say a word. Mostly because my mouth felt glued shut, but also because I had no idea what to say to that.