I can feel his eyes on me, tracking my every movement. Does he have to make it so obvious? It’s hard to ignore him, because I do feel that connection between us. I’m not so far in denial to lie about that.
The heat, it’s there.
Oh it’s there alright. It’s scorching. It’s an inferno.
And it’s going to burn me alive.
Why couldn’t it be anyone else? Why him? I turn my head and see him sitting there, his back against the wall. He is so handsome, it actually hurts.
My pulse starts to race.
His lips quirk, indicating he knows he has my attention. My date returns and sits opposite me. He starts to talk, but I have no idea what he’s saying, because my eyes are still on Sax. His gaze darts to my date, hurt and anger flashing in his brown eyes before he is able to mask it. My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I make up my mind. I offer him a smile, which I know he’ll understand. I’m about to tell my date I need to leave when Sax lifts his drink to his mouth. As I see the initials tattooed on his knuckles, I remember. I remember why he isn’t for me, and my shields rebuild right before my eyes.
Saxon Tate is forbidden. And I can never allow myself to even consider going there.
“Can you please wear some different jeans? I can almost see your ass crack,” Ryder complains as he sits at the table, mouth tight with disapproval.
“These are your girlfriend’s jeans,” I point out, raising an eyebrow. I had somehow managed to squeeze into them—they must be like the jeans from that travelling pants movie. “And trust me, no other man is complaining.”
“That’s the point,” he grumbles, biting into the cake Layla baked him. I had offered to deliver it to Ryder’s house, but not just b
View more books of Chantal Fernando