Page 43 of Dangerous Attraction

Curiosity lingers, and with the furrowed brows and the intense stare as he waits for an answer, I think he's genuinely concerned I might not be.

I nod. "Yeah, I'm okay. I just have a lot on my mind I guess, but I'm fine."

I scrub at the table again, thinking the conversation is over, since he doesn't seem to talk much, but he surprises me when he shifts in his seat, closes the paperback, then rests it on the edge of the chair.

"When people say they're fine, that usually means they're not."

His whispered words burn through me because I know his words ring true.

Whenever I've been going through shit in life, and people have asked me if I'm okay, I've always responded the same way. Because, in my opinion, people don't want a genuine answer, it's just common courtesy for them to ask.

"Wise words," I say, chuckling.

Picking up the cloth and spray bottle, I stand up straight, then stretch out my back.

"Thank you," he says, and I frown.

"For what?"

His lips quirk, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"For asking me," he clarifies. "Most people don't."

He dips his head forward again as he settles back into his chair. But he doesn't open his book again like I expect him to, instead, he keeps his studious gaze on me.

I shrug. "That's because most people are assholes."

His lips stretch across his face, and a set of dimples appear in the center of both his cheeks.

A sense of achievement sparks inside of me at the sight of his contagious smile, but the sound of a glass smashing from downstairs has his lips falling back into a flat line.

"I better go and see what that's all about," I say as I spin around and walk toward the stairs.

Chapter Sixteen

Reeve

Sweeping the glass from the floor, I huff in frustration when I hear Chad and Rowan tousling around.

"What happened?" Trix asks, rounding the bar.

I glance at her over my shoulder, drag my eyes up the length of her body from my crouched position, then clamp my jaw shut.

The tight denim jeans clinging to her legs almost knocked me off my feet this morning. Those matched with the skintight black top she has on under the cropped denim jacket, which cuts off just above her wide, grabbable hips, look like they'd fit perfectly in my hands.

I like it when she wears her hair down as the long wavy strands brush against her back when she moves. And every time she leans forward, a few fall around her face, framing her rounded cheeks, giving her an angelic, cute look.

My fingers twitch when I think about brushing her hair behind her ears, revealing the glittering silver jewelry I know she wears.

"Well?"

Realizing I've been staring at her for too long, I shake my head and stand up, tipping the broken glass into the trash.

"Just Chad and Rowan being idiots," I grumble, nodding toward the two boys currently wrestling with each other on top of one of the pool tables.

The double doors swing open, and Warren, our Vice President, walks in with the newest prospect trailing behind him. Shucking off his leather cut and hooking it over his arm, his eyes hone in on the two youngsters and he shakes his head.

"Cut it out!" he shouts, voice echoing through the quiet room. Chad and Rowan pull apart immediately, looking at War with wide eyes before scurrying over to one of the booths.