Sierra Lancaster has had an agonizingly mediocre life. She grew up in a happy home, made loyal friends, graduated college, and is now pursuing her dream of running her own bakery. Boring, right? A story like this wouldn't be one for the books. At le...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
A blank stare meets my declaration, the tall body I was ogling moments ago leaning back against the door. Suddenly it's less attractive to me.
Okay. That's a big, fat lie.
It's still the nicest body I've ever seen even if it's hidden underneath a form-fitting black suit that only makes the son of a bitch look hotter than he is. I want to bleach my brain for even having such a horrific thought.
"How flattering," He suddenly deadpans, voice so much deeper than I remember. It's also laced with the kind of commandment that makes people stop and listen. "I've been told people can't resist the devil."
My eyes narrow. And I thought he had a big ego when we were kids.
"Is his name really Satan?" Mover Guy asks in my ear. He's been watching our encounter with wide eyes.
"It should be," I mutter. "There's hardly a difference between the two."
Another passive blink greets me. But this time those dark eyes drop to my body and scroll downward almost lazily. There's no interest behind the action but then I didn't expect there to be. Very little impresses the little asshole and I've never accomplished to in all the years I've known him. I stay rooted to the spot and ready to swing one on the face that unfairly got hotter when his eyes finally clash with mine again, unblinkingly.
I resist the urge to hiss like a snake. I doubt it would scare him. He probably sacrifices grandmothers and baby kittens to cults in his spare time.
"Sierra Lancaster," He finally acknowledges. So he does recognize me.
"Holden Rey," I say in an equally bored voice. What I really want to do is take my heel off and stab his perfect little eyeballs with it. Holden raises a brow like he knows what I'm thinking.
"You've changed." He states the obvious. "Aside from your tendency to follow me around like a pain in the ass. Still haven't given up on that?"
I kiss my teeth noisily, undeterred by his comment. "You're still a little peach, aren't you? Aside from your tendency to be a constipated douchebag. Still haven't given up on that, huh?"
"Obviously not."
"Obviously. Thought blowing out your shoulder and losing your chances with the NFL would have shot your inferiority complex."
His jaw ticks at my comment, the only tell that it took him by surprise.
"Oh, snap." Mover Guy mumbles.
Holden raises a brow, voice and expression flat once again. "I'm impressed. That one almost stung."
"You mean your charred little black heart can actually feel something?"
"I'm offended that you think I have one."
"Don't lie now, Satan. Let's not pretend you have emotions."
