Distorted Love (Dark Intentions Duet 1)

“Saskia…”

Turning around, I notice Stiles is dressed in dark denim jeans, with a light blue button-up shirt. He looks good, too good to be standing next to me in my jeans and blouse. I should have worn the dress Livia bought for me, but the minute I put it on tonight, I felt cheap. Like I was offering something that wasn’t mine to give.

He leans in and kisses me on the cheek. I wait for that all-consuming heartbeat to take over the same way it does when Ryken is near me. Nothing happens. Pulling back, he offers me his hand before we head inside. Sliding mine in his, we walk in and take our seats.

“I didn’t think you would show tonight.”

A small tendril of my blonde hair falls over my face, and I push it back looking down at the table as I speak to him. “Thanks for inviting me.” That’s about all I can think to say. This is all new to me. I mean I only kissed my first ever boy last week, and this week I’m on a date. Is it all too fast? I’ve locked myself up for so long trying to protect myself. Now I feel like maybe I’m giving myself too much of the world before I know everything about it and how I should feel or how I should react.

What if his taste is as addictive as Ryken’s?

I’ll be screwed, that’s what.

“You play sports?” I ask him, looking down at the menu.

After a few moments, the waiter walks up to the table, and Stiles takes the pleasure of ordering for both of us. I’m kind of glad he did because the closest I’ve come to eating out has only been at burger joints.

He laughs at my question. It’s not an insulting laugh. Just a friendly chuckle.

“I do. I take it you don’t follow?”

I shake my head. I’ve never been one of those girls and never claimed to be either. I know Livia goes to every home game. She’s asked me to come several times, but I’ve never wanted to. I’d rather stay home and study or read.

“Livia goes to most games.”

“You two close?”

Shrugging my shoulders. “She’s family.”

He nods.

“You haven’t dated her, have you?” Shit! I didn’t mean to say it out loud but somehow it just kind of fell out of my mouth.

His eyes go wide. “No, no. Livia is… well, Livia.”

I laugh at his theory and take comfort in it.

“I like that,” he smiles at me.

My eyebrows scrunch up in confusion.

“Hearing you laugh, I’ve never seen you genuinely laugh before.”

His words make me blush.

Robert makes me laugh. Often, actually.

The night goes better than I thought it would. He even offers to take me home. I decline and catch the bus instead. As it comes to a stop out front of my trailer park, I see a familiar red car.

Sitting in the street, waiting for the bus, there’s a very good-looking guy leaning back against his car with his legs crossed over each other.

“Wrong neighborhood?” I ask as I walk past him.

“How was your date?”

“Ask Quinn… he’s probably around here somewhere stalking me.”

Ryken stands taller. “What did you say?”

“Your friend… or employee… I don’t know which. Does he follow you?”

“Have you seen him again?”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I look up to him to see him watching me intently. His eyes are dark and foreboding.

“He followed me on Monday. Told me to stay away from you and that you’re better off with her.”

He swears then turns, and the loudest thumping sound echoes through the night sky. Ryken punched his beautiful red car, and there’s a significant indentation in the door. Reaching for his hand, I notice blood on his knuckles and try to wipe it away with my shirt.

He pulls his hand back away from me. “You’ll dirty your shirt.”

Shaking my head, I reach for it again, cleaning as much blood as I can to see if it’s deep. Thankfully it’s not too bad, but it definitely needs some attention.

“You’ll need to bandage that.” Stepping back away from him, I realize I need some space because where I was, I could smell him. He’s intoxicating to me. He’s like my own personal drug, drowning me with his scent.

“Run the other way when you see him, Barbie. Promise me you won’t go near him again?”

My head drops to the side. I can see him clearly because we’re under a street lamp. “You’re his boss, aren’t you? Can’t you tell him to stay away?”

“His boss?” he asks confused.

“That’s what he told me. He said you’re his boss, and he’s protecting his interests.”

“No. No. I’ll fucking kill him.”

“Is he dangerous?” I ask, wanting to know if he is, or is what I’m feeling all in my head.

“He is! Much more than you realize. Stay away. I won’t tell you again.”