Caveman (Wild Men 1)

“Her.” He nods toward the drawing as he steps out. “Kill it, or leave it.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“The fear, man. Talking about fear. You’re afraid to talk to her, why, I don’t know. Kill the fear, or leave it and be done with it.”

He makes it sound so damn easy.

I down three cups of black coffee before my brain can function enough for me to shower and get ready. I decide to go for a run. I need to get back my strength, and the illness took a huge toll on me. It’s only recently I can jog for more than ten minutes without coughing my lungs out and feeling like I’ll never get my breath back. Getting stronger every day.

Kill it, or leave it.

The words reverberate in my head as I run through busy streets and parks and turn back toward the apartment. My footfalls thump to the rhythm of my heartbeat. I climb the stairs and bend over, coughing.

Kill it, or leave it.

I’ll talk to her. So what if she thinks I’m a stalker? I’ll just cross the street and say, hey, are you Ev? Because you saved my life, you know, and I wanna thank you for that.

Lame. Probably stupid. But it might help me sleep better, knowing I did it.

So of course it makes sense, with my rotten luck in life, that the girl across the street doesn’t show up, not this afternoon, or the one after. She’s gone.

Chapter Four

Evangeline

Joel is furious. He paces my bedroom, his strides eating up the space, his blue eyes flashing at every turn.

“What the hell were you thinking, Evie? Why can’t you be careful?”

I wince, and I pretend it’s because of my leg—which is propped up on a pillow, an ice pack on my throbbing knee. My almost-fall the other day screwed it up quite a bit.

It’s not that bad, I tell myself. By tomorrow I’ll be able to walk properly again, and by the week’s end, I’ll be as good as new.

I should be glad it isn’t worse. I should be glad Micah kept me from falling and spraining my ankle or maybe even breaking my leg again. A shudder goes through me at the thought.

And I shudder again at the memory of his muscular arms around me, his strong body pressed to mine, those sky-blue eyes fixed on me... His scent of burned ink and musk, the intensity in his gaze, in his voice... I should be creeped out that he watched me and followed me—but I’m not. The way he helped me and then held me, his low voice... he made me feel safe.

Which is stupid. I don’t know him. His behavior is odd. He’s... so hot.

Oh God...

“Evie? Have you heard a word I’ve said?”

My cheeks burn. “Sure.”

“Haven’t you learned that running through the town like that is dangerous? Especially with your leg still so weak. Wasn’t one accident enough?” My brother shakes his head. “Why do you have to go to all the seedy places?

“I didn’t go to any seedy places, Joel. I was downtown.”

“Exactly. Why can’t you stay near home?”

Anger warms my chest. “Why? You moved out and have your life. What am I, a prisoner or an invalid?”

“Neither.” His voice softens and he comes to stand in front of me. He kneels, putting his hands on the bed. His eyes are like a bright blue. He’s a looker, my big brother, that’s for sure. “Dammit, Evie. I want what’s best for you.”

“Really?” I lift my chin. “Getting out of the house

is good for me. Meeting new people is good for me.”