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“Put these on,” he says, tossing the black fabric at me.
It smacks me in the face. He then tosses the boots at my feet.
“This thing is going to swallow me whole,” I hold the hoodie up and it looks as wide as a bed sheet. “And there is no way I’m fitting those boots.”
“You’re very picky for someone in a borrowed dress.”
I widen my eyes before looking down at my dress. “How did you know it was borrowed?”
His brow quirks up, and even though he doesn’t say anything, I can read the word ‘really’ loud and clear.
“Whatever,” I grumble, putting the large hoodie on.
As suspected, it swallows me. The bottom hits me right below the knees. After kicking off the heels, I put on the boots. I have to wrap the string around the ankle a few times to get them to tighten.
I look like a child playing dress-up in her daddy’s clothes. Holding my arms out at my side, I drop them back down as I glare at him. He eyes me up and down before grimacing.
“I told you.”
“Take off the shoes,” he says, before turning back to the closet.
While his back is to me, I discreetly bury my nose into the collar of the hoodie and take a whiff. His scent is all over the fabric. It’s a clean smell, with undertones of oak and sandalwood. Nothing overpowering, but I wouldn’t expect anything else from him.
“Tell me about the guys in the diner?” he asks without turning to look at me.
He moves the clothes to one side in his closet, exposing a fancy keypad. Clearing my throat, I shift my weight from one foot to the next in order to take the heavy boots off.
“There’s nothing to tell.” I slide my feet back into my heels. They aren’t the best, but at least they fit.
“Who is Nic?” he asks as he presses a few buttons on the keypad.
The back panel of the wall slides open. Oh shit. This man has a wall of weapons. There are guns, knives of all sizes, a freaking sword, and almost every power tool you can name. He opens the duffle bag and starts adding in a few more tools along with a couple of knives.
I’m so wrapped up in his arsenal that I forgot he asked me a question until he looks back at me over his shoulder.
I cringe. Would it have been too much to ask that he didn’t pick up on anything that was said during that incident.
“I guess you could consider him an ex-boyfriend.” I mean we were together for six months. That’s a lot longer than any other relationship I’ve had.
He zips the bag up and starts out of the hidden room.
“Why are you afraid of him?”
“What?” I ask, rubbing the back of my neck, stalling. “Who told you I was afraid of him?”
He lifts one of his dark blond brows at me. I’m starting to get really irritated with that look. Sighing, I drop my arms by my side.
“I’m really starting to hate this talent of yours.” Taking a seat on the couch, I lean back. “I burned down his stash house by accident and now he’s determined to kill me.”
With his arms folded across his chest, he only stares at me silently. Unlike him, I don’t have the talent of reading people, so I don’t know what he’s thinking. I push forward.
“Sorry to spoil it for you, but you’re not the first person to want to kill me. I have people lining up to do me the favor.”
“Is that why you’re so agreeable now?”
I wanted to argue that I’m agreeable because his big ass keeps chasing me down, but that wouldn’t be truthful.
“Honestly, I was supposed to be dead a long time ago. I’ve been cheating death since I was a kid. I’m not surprised that bitch finally caught up to me. I guess I figured, why keep running when it’s going to happen anyway. Might as well be you that does it.”
