He shot another glance at my nonexistent breasts. “JFC, back it up all the way.” He snorted a lewd laugh, actually abbreviating Jesus effing Christ. “My trainer thought you were a hookup or something.” Can you tell me why you’re here? You’re getting me in trouble.” So let’s spare you the hospital visit and me the inconvenience. “Then,” I said carefully, “I’m afraid I’ll have to run you over. I stared at him with a mixture of irritation and confusion.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to block your way out of here, if you do that.” He dragged his fingers through his tresses, each golden hair submitting to the movement, like a gust of wind swiping a wheat field. And if you don’t tell me what it’s about, I’m afraid I’ll have to turn around, get into my car, and drive away.” “We are talking somewhere.” I took my AirPods out, dropping them into my front pocket. His eyes inched wider in surprise, but he soon arranged his features back into a flaccid expression and cleared his throat. “And…?” I frowned when it became obvious his statement was also meant to serve as some sort of clarification. I blinked at him, waiting for further explanation. “I’m Hunter Fitzpatrick.” He pointed at himself, his smirk a perfect, well-practiced half-moon with the right amount of teeth-to-dimple ratio. This guy was a complete stranger, after all. “Yeah.” I reared my head back so I could take more of him in, and also because I couldn’t tell if the need to head-butt him would arise. I felt my body stiffening in defense and shook my head, ridding myself of the weird hold his looks had on me. “Sailor Brennan?” the man- not boy-asked flatly, his eyes raking me head to toe like I was a call girl he’d just opened his door for and discovered was not up to his standards.

The hunter by lj shen