LIAMBRENNERSTANDSBEFORE me, introducing himself like he’s God himself. Yet there’s a wariness in his gaze I can’t quite place. The tone and body language don’t match the emotion behind his ice-blue eyes.
I sigh.
“I didn’t ask.”
It’s been a long damn day of bullshit, just to end up cornered by this asshole and thrown into his car like he has the right. Thankfully, I parked my car not far from here to run, so I can go home once I’m in the clear.
After I deal with the other dickhead, waiting for me to enter the building, that is. I’ve dealt with Breckin enough today, and the last thing I want to do is listen to him whine about whatever he thinks is happening here.
Brenner pushes a wet curl behind my ear, pulling me out of my head. The heat from his touch is a stark contrast to the cold rain pelting my skin.
“You could thank me for the ride, you know.” He smiles when I don’t pull away from his touch.
I remind myself the mission’s success may hinge on my reaction. Though I won’t let this man, or any man, take advantage of me, breaking Collins’s best friend’s fingers would probably be poor strategy.
“I didn’t exactly ask for that, either.” I shrug.
He smiles, and I take a moment to observe his features in the better light from the building. His warm, tanned skin is a beautiful contrast to his eyes' vibrant, icy blue. You can miss that contrast in dimmer lighting, but when you can see it… I imagine getting lost in those eyes would be like swimming in a pool on a hot summer day.
A set of bright, white teeth shine back at me through a crooked, confident smile. His beard is short and tidy, matching the deep brown of his hair. Liam Brenner is a beautiful man in any setting, one I would gladly take for a ride a time or two if the circumstances were different.
He steps closer to me, reading my contemplation as interest. His fingers grasp my chin and force my eyes to his. I’m sure he’s fully aware that he has my attention, but he wants a reaction.
“You’ve got quite the mouth on you, don’t you?” he says, licking his bottom lip.
As much as I’d love to fuel his attention the way I usually do, I need to reel this in. I pull my chin away from his grasp, though I don’t step back. He clears his throat, once again uncomfortable with the rejection. But this time, he doesn’t fall back on the same dickhead behavior he did earlier.
Instead, he just watches me.
“I’d hate to go to jail tonight for assaulting the law.”
I smile and bat my eyes, knowing full well I just rubbed salt in the wound. His eyes hold both amusement and annoyance. Though his demeanor had barely changed, I know calling an FBI agent “Officer” is a dig, one that will hit him square in the pride.
“Goodnight, Officer.”
On that note, I turn and walk into the apartment building, leaving Brenner lost to his thoughts.
The burly, overweight security guard yawns at his station, barely glancing at me. Breckin leans against a large column in the middle of the reception area, his weapon shoved carelessly in the front of his loose black joggers, his white t-shirt tucked behind it so the gun is in full view. He looks at me through his lashes, no longer pretending he is busy with his phone.
“Care to explain what the fuck you’re doing out with Brenner?”
He pushes off the wall, straightening to his full height, in an attempt to intimidate me, but my balls will always be bigger than his.
“I wasn’t out with Brenner,” I snap. “I was out running, and he saw me, shoved me in his car, and brought me here.”
He eyes me up and down, considering my words, but I know what he witnessed, and I doubt my words mean shit to him.
“He looked a little handsy, Malia.”
“Reel in your jealousy, Reynolds.”
I refuse to play into his game.
Anger makes his tanned skin flush red.
“You deserve better than this. You’re just a fucking pawn in this game of your father’s, babe.”
“Stop,” I warn.