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“No,” I admitted. “But I know that you’re striking out.”
“Yeah,” Jax sniffed, and tilted his head in the direction of the alleyway. “Like you and the karate kid, back there.”
The wind picked up, blowing a lock of hair across his square-jawed face. Maybe it was because I hated him so much, but I’d forgotten how good he looked. The last few years appeared to have sharpened his more masculine features.
“You’re lucky my roommate and I were out walking tonight,” he told me. “I was supposed to be on shift.”
“You still swinging that stethoscope, pretending to be a doctor?” I quipped.
“You still playing Dungeons and Dragons?” he asked, dragging the last part out snidely.
I shrugged. Shit yeah I was.
“Dick.”
“Dork.”
“Lame ass, wanna be—”
We both turned, as someone came running back in our direction. My second savior rounded the corner, puffing great white breaths into the icy, almost-midnight air.
“What happened?” Jax demanded.
His friend rested his hands on his knees and shook his head. “He… was just… too fast…”
Jax huffed. He looked at me bitterly.
“Know where that asshat lives?”
“No, not really.”
“But you’ve got his name though, right? I mean, you dated him.”
I knew what he was driving at. I didn’t like it.
“Look, just let him go,” I told him. “It’s not even worth it.”
Jax shook his full head of thick, dark hair. “Unlike you, I have a hard time letting go. You know that.”
I ignored the dig and turned my attention to my other rescuer. The man was shorter than Jax, with dark, curly hair and skin so tan it was almost brown. His face was covered in sexy stubble, and what a handsome face it was, too. Handsome and exotic, but also, somehow familiar…
“This, unfortunately,” Jax grumbled, “is Harper Hayes.” He jerked an obligatory chin my way.
The other man put out his hand and grinned. “Harper Hayes?” he repeated. “Sounds like a superhero name.”
I took his palm. I shook it numbly.
“Super villains have names like that too,” Jax noted disdainfully.
A scathing retort leapt straight to the tip of my tongue. It died there however, as dim recognition jockeyed valiantly for position at the forefront of my brain.
“Harper, this is Preston.”
Preston. Preston…
Oh SHIT!
“Preston!”
