Chapter 34 – Sydney
SYDNEY
I’m late.
I am so fucking late.
By the time I wake up and finally turn my phone back on, it’s late enough in the day that it’s a miracle Jade hasn’t kicked down my front door to make sure I’m not dead. The quick shower I take before leaving—absolutely necessary considering the state Sebastian left me in—makes me even later.
“I’m so, so sorry!” I call out the second I burst through the doors of the Bookshop Boutique and Bakery.
It’s nearly noon, and I’ve missed the entirety of the morning rush.
Bea yowls indignantly from her carrier, furious at her imprisonment, until I finally set it down and open it to let her free.
She immediately darts away, disappearing between the bookstacks, eager to start a new day of harassing our customers.
“My alarm didn’t go off this morning and—”
I stop in the middle of my explanation, because Jade doesn’t look mad. Or even disappointed. She’s behind the café counter, arms crossed over her chest, mouth twitching like she’s trying not to laugh.
“It’s fine,” she says, not even trying to hide her grin. “You were busy. And Justin was here to help.”
I frown, confused. “Justin isn’t scheduled to work today.”
“He wasn’t,” Jade admits. “But when the good doctor texted me this morning to explain why you’d be coming in late…”
Oh, no. He wouldn’t. But Jade gives me a smug I told you so look.
“Please tell me he didn’t actually text you,” I beg.
“I really wish I could tell you that, Syd,” she says sweetly, “but sadly, I am not a liar.”
I bury my face in my hands and groan.
“So.” Jade’s smile widens. “You and Doc, huh? When did that start up again?”
“Last night,” I murmur into my palms. “Or, maybe earlier? I don’t even know.”
“Uh-huh,” Jade says, smirking.
“Hey, there’s this really scary-looking guy hanging around the back, and—Oh!” Justin’s voice makes us both turn. He freezes mid-step when he sees me, face going tomato red. “H-hey, Syd!”
“Justin may have read the messages as well,” Jade informs me.
“Oh God.” I drop my face back into my hands.
“It’s fine.” He gives an awkward laugh. “I was just, you know, there when she got the messages. She asked if I could come in and cover for you. No big deal.”
“No big deal that he now knows your boyfriend sexed you into a coma this morning,” Jade adds.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I protest. “He’s just…”
And there it is. The problem. I don’t know what he is. Or where I stand, with any of them, anymore.
“Just the guy who sexed you into a coma,” Jade finishes helpfully.
“I really don’t think I need to be part of this conversation,” Justin says, backing away. “I don’t think I want to be part of this conversation.”
“What were you saying before?” I ask him, desperate to change the subject. “About a scary guy?”
“I said a really scary guy,” Justin corrects me. “I’ve seen him here before, a couple of times. Big dude. Like, big big. Buzz cut. Lots of scars.”
My stomach flips. “A scar on his face?” I ask. I trace my finger over my forehead, following the familiar pattern. “Over his eyebrow?”
Justin taps his nose. “That’s him!”
Viper.
Jade and I share a look.
“What was that?” Justin demands, glancing between the two of us. “What was that look? Is this guy a problem, or something? Do I need to kick him out?”
The mental image of Justin trying to get Viper to do anything is so comical I have to bite back a laugh.
“He’s Sydney’s other boyfriend, the one from the club,” Jade supplies, with a devilish grin. I shoot her a murderous look, but she laughs and says, “What? He’s going to find out about all of them eventually.”
“Your other boyfriend,” Justin repeats. His expression goes completely blank. “Huh.”
“Do I need to repeat the shop rules?” Jade asks, voice turning hard. “In this store we do not slut sha—”
Just cuts her off, raising a hand to stop her from saying anything more. “Nope! No need to repeat anything. I was just…counting. We’re up to four, then, aren’t we? Are there any others I should know about?”
I ignore that. “Where is he?” I ask.
“Uh, classics. In the back.”
“I’ll handle it,” I assure him, already moving. “And he’s not my boyfriend,” I add, glaring at Jade. But it sounds like a lie, even to me.
“You want backup?” Justin offers.
I think about the knife Viper pulled out at the club when Jade told him no. I swallow, palms sweaty.
Line, Viper.
“No,” I tell Justin. “I think it’s better if it’s just me.”
Viper is exactly where Justin said he’d be—standing in our classic literature section, leaning against the bookshelves and reading. As I watch, he brings his thumb to his mouth and slides his tongue over it, wetting it before he uses it to turn the page.
Just talk to him. He’s not that scary. Just talk to him like a normal human being. Just climb on top of him, pull his clothes off, and…
God, Syd, do you have a death wish? What is wrong with you?
I take a deep breath to steady myself.
But before I can step forward, I notice he’s not alone. Bea circles his ankles, coming into my field of view. She rubs the side of her body against him, coming up on two legs to reach as high as she can.
It’s…cute. Okay, more than cute. It’s downright adorable. She trills musically and rolls onto the top of his boot, kicking her hind legs against him and gnawing furiously on one of his shoelaces.
Then Viper leans down and scoops her up, and my heart leaps into my throat.
She looks so tiny and helpless in his grasp, legs dangling in the air. I can’t help but step forward, ready to snatch her away if he hurts her. But he doesn't, doesn’t even seem tempted to. He holds her gently, one big hand braced around her middle, and presses a soft kiss to the top of her head.
Bea purrs so loudly in response, I wonder if they can hear it in the café.
“I didn’t know you liked cats,” I say, a warm feeling rising in my chest.
“What kind of monster doesn’t like cats?” Viper asks, murmuring the words into her fur. She kneads happy biscuits in the air, thrilled with the attention. He kisses her again and then sets her back down on the ground.
Since we adopted her, Bea has been skittish around the customers, at best. A criminal nuisance, at worst. I’ve lost track of the number of mugs she’s broken this week, and just the other day, I swear she tried to take off with a customer’s wallet.
Soon we suspect she’ll graduate to major felonies.
I’m not sure how to feel about the way she arches against Viper’s hand, begging for more attention, clearly enamored with him.
When he straightens and Bea realizes he’s not offering anymore kisses, she rubs against his ankle one last time, then struts away, tail held high in triumph.
Viper’s gaze is locked on me when I look at him. “Hello, little rabbit.” The lazy grin that curls his mouth sends a chill down my spine.
The book he was reading is hanging loosely at his side. The Brothers Karamazov, I note, by Dostoevsky.
“That’s a good book,” I tell him, motioning toward it.
He doesn’t answer. His eyes are locked on my lips.
I clear my throat nervously. “You don’t have to stick around here anymore, you know.” I force a smile and raise my hand to the ceiling, pointing at the camera above us. “Seb installed a, uh…a security system. To keep an eye on me.”
Viper doesn’t look up at the camera. His grin turns feral as he moves closer to me, and I instinctively take a step back. Then another. It’s not until my shoulder blades hit the bookshelf behind that I realize he’s cornered me, trapping me between him and our wide range of classic books.
“To keep an eye on you,” he repeats. He keeps coming closer, until we’re pressed against each other.
He’s huge, so big he takes up my whole field of vision, and I struggle to take a full breath, staring up at him.
“And how long do you think it would take him to get here,” he asks, “if you were in danger?”
I hadn’t considered it. Not until now.
My pulse races. Viper leans down, his lips hovering over mine. “Do you really think he’d be fast enough to save you?”
It feels like a threat, the way he says it.
“Viper, I—”
His hand moves up toward my face so fast I flinch, my words devolving into a squeal.
But he doesn’t touch me. His hand stops right beside my head, the book clasped in his grasp, his eyes never leaving mine as he pushes his copy of The Brothers Karamazov back into place on the shelf.
He leaves his hand there after, palm flat against the book spines, boxing me in.
“You’re so pretty when you’re scared,” he coos with a wide grin, dark eyes sparkling.
I should do something. Scream. Slip under his arm and run. But I’m frozen in place, trembling, and he leans further into me, lowering his face to brush his nose against the vulnerable skin of my throat
“Viper.” My breath stutters as he presses me against the shelves with his body, his hand slipping under my shirt. He makes a satisfied sound deep in his throat as his thumb grazes my ribs.
I manage to get my hands up and press them to his chest, but don’t push him away. I’m not even sure I could.
Another low sound, unmistakably masculine, as his teeth graze over my pulse. He inhales deeply, nuzzling into my neck. “You smell like sex,” he murmurs against my skin. His fingers tighten, nails biting into my ribs.
What was it? The thing Sebastian said to him?
“Line, Viper,” I gasp, heart pounding, palms pressing into his chest.
He goes still. The hand gripping me beneath my shirt pauses.
Hesitantly, I push a little harder against him, and to my surprise, he moves back, taking a step away from me. His hand drags down my stomach before he pulls it away completely.
He’s still too close, eyes narrowed as he watches me, a slight curl to his lips. I’m all too aware of all the places we’re still touching. The way my chest brushes against his with every breath I take, the way his leg rests between mine.
“You can stay,” I tell him. Truthfully, I don’t mind him being here. It’s comforting having him around, protecting me. “If you don’t bother the customers. If you don’t hurt—” Me, I almost say. “If you don’t hurt anyone.”
Viper hums thoughtfully. “And where’s the fun in that?” His mouth curves into a manic smile that’s all teeth.
The worst part is I’m not scared. Or maybe I am, but not enough.
My skin is hot where he touched me, too sensitive.
And despite everything—despite the giant walking red flag this man is, and despite the fact that I have no excuse for being this turned on after everything Sebastian did to me this morning—I want more.
There must be something deeply wrong with me. Because all I want is to feel him touch me again. And, as if he senses it, he leans in closer, thumb brushing over the corner of my mouth.
“You can’t touch me here, you can’t—” I swallow hard. “Not here. Not where I work.”
Viper tilts his head, studying me. Something shifts in his eyes.
“Not here,” he repeats. His stare is heavy, all-consuming. I feel like a bug caught under glass. Something interesting but foreign to him. “Fine.”
He pushes off the shelf and walks away, not sparing me another glance.