#Chapter284

I stand still as he listens to the voice on the other end, his gaze narrowing on me and he frowns harder, lifting his arm to check his wristwatch and then runs a hand over his brow and through his hair before scratching his scalp in an agitated manner. Restlessness. Frustration, maybe? Not a good sign either way.

It’s the version I see every day at the club. The version I was only too willing to forget existed when blinded by sweet words and charming behaviour. A slap to my senses that this right here is all part of what I’m getting, and I should wise up. This is...