Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
ANTON
I sit on my bike a block away from her place, phone in hand, watching the security feed as she crosses her bedroom and settles on the bed with that same notebook, her pen gliding across the page.
The urge to find out what she’s writing hits me hard. It better be about me, because the thought of her filling those pages with some other man she finds more interesting pisses me off.
I refuse to be left in the dark. The first chance I get, I’m going inside and reading every word. There’s no fucking way I’ll sleep tonight until I do.
She closes the notebook, then gets to her feet, slipping into her shoes before stepping out the door.
I could go inside right now and read that damn diary, but that isn’t what I should be doing. It isn’t what Konstantin expects from me, and I refuse to let her become any more of a distraction than she already is.
I lock my phone and slip it into my pocket. The diary can wait. For now, I want to see where she goes next.
When she backs out of the driveway, I give her enough time to put several cars between us before following and blending into traffic where she won’t notice me.
About five miles later, she turns into a diner parking lot. I drive past the entrance instead of going in behind her, then circle back once enough time has passed. By the time I park, she’s already sliding into a booth beside the large front window.
I choose a spot near the edge of the lot, partially blocked by a truck but still angled enough to give me a clear view of her through the glass.
I sit up a little straighter, my eyes on her as she orders, then pulls out her phone and gives the screen all her attention, completely unaware of how easy she is to watch.
Does she pay attention to her surroundings at all?
Would she notice someone approaching from behind or know how to break free if they grabbed her?
What would she do if a man decided he wanted her and didn’t care how loud she screamed?
Has her useless family taught her anything, or did they spend all their time locking her behind gates and convincing themselves that counted as protection?
And why the fuck doesn’t she have a bodyguard on her at all times?
A waitress brings over a tall drink, sets it in front of her, and walks away. Thora immediately returns to her phone, oblivious to everything around her.
Then a man approaches her table. He says something, and when she looks up at him, she smiles.
My pulse kicks hard. Who the hell is that?
He steps closer, and she laughs. My grip tightens around the handlebar as he keeps her attention, drawing out a smile from her, then another. The longer I watch, the more something stabs into me.
Did she fuck him? Is that why she’s smiling like that?
My jaw locks as he makes it to the edge of her table, way too close. Didn’t she believe me when I told her I’d kill any man who touched her? Or does she need a demonstration?
Dark amusement bleeds through my anger as I swing my leg off the bike, my mouth curving while I make my way toward the entrance.
Time to introduce myself.
THORA
As soon as I lower myself into the booth, goose bumps trail along my arms, that strange feeling of being watched taking over me. I glance out the window, scanning the row of cars in the lot, but nothing looks off enough to explain why my stomach keeps tightening.
I’m being ridiculous. Anton isn’t here. He’s not actually stalking me. He was probably just saying that to get under my skin, because apparently that’s one of his favorite hobbies.
“Here you go.”
The waitress sets my chocolate milkshake in front of me before heading back toward the counter. I take a sip and open my phone to check my social media messages when a familiar voice pulls me away.
“Hey, Thora.”
I glance up as Boone approaches my booth, an easy grin spreading across his face.
“Nice seeing you here. Guess we had the same idea.” He nods toward my milkshake. “I was just about to order one.”
A laugh slips out. “I didn’t know you drank milkshakes with all the working out you do.”
“Glad you noticed.” He winks and steps closer, flexing his bicep with far too much confidence.
Oh God. I didn’t mean it like that.
“So, are you heading back to the farm, or are you going home for the night?”
“Home to change. I have a date in an hour.”
“Oh, that’s nice.” I manage a polite smile, unsure what else to say.
“Yeah, well…” He lifts one shoulder. “I have to take what I can get since the woman I actually want doesn’t feel the same.”
Heat crawls up my face. “I’m sure you’ll survive.”
“I’ll try.”
The door opens, and when I glance over, Anton is standing at the entrance with his glare fixed directly on me.
My heart gives a violent kick.
Boone keeps talking, but his words fade beneath the rush in my ears as Anton advances toward us, looking ready to tear him apart for standing too close.
He shoulders past Boone and drops into the booth beside me, winding an arm around my shoulders and hauling me firmly against his side until every thought in my head scatters.
I stare at him in disbelief, but his attention never leaves Boone, who appears every bit as stunned as I feel.
Boone’s brows snap as his gaze darts between us. “Uh…hi?”
Anton doesn’t bother saying a word, just keeps staring at him with that dark, murderous glare.
Well, this is fun…
Boone lets out a nervous chuckle and glances at me, clearly waiting for an explanation for the terrifying man holding me like I’m his.
“Sorry. Uh…who are you?”
Anton’s mouth creeps up, and the hairs on the back of my neck rise just as Boone’s easy confidence falters.
I clear my throat, already scrambling to defuse this before it turns into something worse. “Boone, this is my fri—”
“Boyfriend,” Anton answers instead.
My eyes pop as I turn toward him, but he pays me no mind, remaining focused on Boone like he’s waiting to see whether the man is stupid enough to challenge him.
“Oh.” Boone drags a hand through his hair, his stare shifting between us. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”
“Neither did I,” I mutter.
Now that the message has sunk in, Boone eases back a step. “Well…I’ll leave you to your, uh, date.”
“That’s the smartest thing you’ve said today.” Anton’s tone remains calm, but the warning beneath has enough bite to make Boone grow stiff.
He gives a nod, then turns to me one last time. “See you, Thora.”
“Yeah…” I swallow, still trying to catch up with whatever the hell is happening. “See you.”
He walks away, and the booth seems to close in around us, leaving me acutely aware of Anton and the warmth of the arm he still has wrapped around me with no sign he plans to let go.
I pivot toward him, narrowing my gaze. “Care to explain what the hell that was about?”
He peers at me like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “What exactly needs explaining, printsessa?”
“Don’t act like you have no idea what I’m talking about.” I give a disbelieving shake of my head. “You called yourself my boyfriend. You have nothing else to say about that?”
“Net.”
I shove his arm off me. “Really? The last time I checked, we were barely friends. Or friends with benefits. I don’t even know what we are, so I don’t know why you’re telling people, especially people who know my family, that we’re dating.”
“Did you want him?”
I draw in a sharp breath when his fingers close around my chin and pull me nearer, his breath warming my lips.
“Did you want him to kiss you the way I can’t?”
My stomach flips as he lowers his mouth to my ear, the question leaving him in a low, husky murmur.
“Did you want him to touch your pussy? Have you fucked him, Thora?”
I shiver, my body tensing at the gravelly pitch of his tone while his arms hold me in place. “You don’t have any right to tell me what to do…or who to do it with.”
A laugh rumbles against my neck as his fingers travel higher along my inner thigh. “But I do. I told you what would happen if you touched another man. That includes flirting. Or maybe it is better if I show you so you never forget.”
He starts to rise like he’s about to go after Boone, and panic spikes through me.
“No.” I catch his shoulder and hold him back. “Don’t do something you’ll regret.”
“Oh, trust me…” He settles against the seat again, a dangerous smirk pulling at his mouth. “I won’t regret a thing. In fact, I’ll take great joy in knowing he’ll no longer have eyes to look at you with.”
“You’re crazy.”
“You’re right.” He leans away just enough to pin me beneath that same intense focus. “So remember that the next time you smile at another man the way you smiled at him.”
The milkshake sits untouched, forgotten, because right now nothing exists outside of him. His knuckles skim the line of my face, my pulse skidding and tripping over itself while his eyes travel over my lips, the pull between us drawing me nearer.
“We shouldn’t be seen together,” I breathe. “My family will find out.”
He lowers his mouth until he’s close enough to kiss me, and when his tongue traces the seam of my lips, I gasp, unable to move.
His hand clamps around my thigh. “Then maybe we should get out of here.”
“Okay.” I don’t even hesitate. I’d follow him anywhere.
He slides out of the booth and tosses a twenty onto the table, then hooks his fingers through mine and brings me up beside him. I instinctively try to slip free, nerves prickling at the thought of someone seeing us together, but his grip only tightens.
“Don’t,” he mutters, shooting me a warning glare.
Heat curls in my stomach, and I bite back a smile as he leads me through the parking lot toward his bike.
“Are you taking me on a ride again?”
A trace of mischief warms his expression, but when my attention drops to the bike, I notice a second helmet resting on his seat, black with thin gold detailing along the sides. It definitely wasn’t there before.
Anton picks it up and holds it out to me. “Do you know how to shoot?”
My brows snap at the abrupt change in subject. “A gun?”
A dry laugh leaves him. “What else would I mean?” His expression hardens. “Do you know how to fight? How to defend yourself?”
I shake my head, feeling smaller beneath his stare.
“Your family never thought you should learn how to protect yourself?”
I swallow past the bitterness in my throat. “In their defense, I’ve always hated guns.”
He closes the distance between us, his thick fingers curling around the side of my neck. “Every woman should know how to protect herself, especially one who belongs to a family like yours.”
His thumb drags over my racing pulse, and every pass feeds the arousal already burning between my thighs.
“Maybe you should teach me, then.” My lips hike up.
He tilts his head like the idea has taken root, settling there until it spins in his eyes. “Maybe I should. We’ll start now.”
“What? It’s dark.”
“Exactly.”
Before I can argue, his grip leaves my throat and settles firmly at my waist as he turns me toward the bike.
“Get on.”
He lifts me as though I weigh nothing and places me on the seat. Once I’m situated, he moves between my knees, bracing one palm beside my thigh while reaching for the helmet with the other.
His fingers graze my jaw as he lowers it over my head, his stare fastened to mine the entire time. The strap clicks beneath my chin, his knuckles brushing my skin before he draws away. Silence stretches between us, charged with everything neither of us is willing to say.
Then he swings onto the bike, his broad shoulders filling my view as the engine roars to life. He pulls on his helmet, then rests a palm against my thigh and gives it a firm squeeze before gripping the handlebars.
“Hold on, printsessa.”
My arms circle him as we tear onto the road even faster than last time, but the fear never comes. With every mile, exhilaration rushes through me until laughter bursts free and vanishes into the wind.
I let go of him and throw both arms into the air, surrendering completely to the thrill.
“This is amazing!” I yell over the engine.
A low chuckle rumbles from him, vibrating through his back and into my chest.
God, I could listen to this man laugh forever.