Witch Hunter Olivia (13 page)

“What are you doing?” I ask in a panic. The door doesn’t seem to be moving fast enough to keep up with the speed we’re coming at it. We’re going to crash.

“Just trust me. I’ve done this a hundred times,” Heath says before yanking on the steering wheel when we’re only feet away from the garage, sending us into a spin.

My hands clutch the dashboard as my stomach feels like it drops into the passenger seat. We do a complete one-eighty and Heath throws the car in reverse before backing up quickly inside the garage. He hits the button again and the door closes in front of us. Heath shuts off the car and plunges us into pitch black. I can’t even see a few inches in front of my face. We hear motorcycle engines revving outside the door.

The car fills with light as Heath’s cell phone’s screen illuminates, revealing his face. Even in this lack of light, his mug is perfection. I want to kiss him for getting my ass out of yet another jam. The grin that sprouts on his lips makes it even harder for me not to initiate a massive make-out session right now.

“Heath—” I try to say, but then he presses his index finger up against my mouth. I send him a quick smirk when I hear the motorcycle engines rev again as they pass by. He raises his eyebrows.

He removes his finger from my lips once it’s silent outside, and then settles back against his seat. “You were saying?” he asks after breathing a relieved sigh.

“Thank you … again.”

“Three,” he murmurs.

“What’s three?”

He turns to me and flashes his phone’s light right up to his face. “The number of times you owe me,” he laughs.

“I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say this is your garage … at your apartment,” I comment, still gazing at his stunningly chiseled jawline showcased by the soft glow of his cell phone’s light.

He chuckles. “Very observant of you.”

“Okay, so I might’ve forgotten to mention one minor detail about myself that pertains to this exact situation.”

“And that would be?” he inquires with an eyebrow raised.

“I’m a bit claustrophobic … and I’m not sure how much longer I can stay in here without flipping out,” I admit. I am starting to feel the walls closing in around me as I speak.

“Perfect timing, since I think we’re in the clear now,” he replies. He hits the button on the visor and the garage door rises. As the light floods in from outside, a sense of calm flows over me as my nerves settle. Instead of starting up the car again, Heath pops open his door and begins to step out.

“Wait. I’ve got to get back to the dorm. I can’t leave Tara and Angelica alone for much longer,” I state, causing him to stop and look back at me over his shoulder.

“I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink. In case you didn’t notice, we were just involved in a high-speed chase, and I need something to take the edge off,” he says with a subtle grin.

“But—”

“One drink, and then we can head back, okay? You owe me, remember?”

“All right, one drink and that’s it,” I respond, much to his delight. I hope this decision doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass.

Now that I have a chance to look at the apartments since we’re not blazing past them, they’re gorgeous. Definitely a much nicer place than I was expecting Heath to live in. This is probably one of the only decent complexes I’ve seen in the whole town of Piedmont Pointe. They’re not big on amenities here. It’s an old town with a lot of history and simple comforts.

“This is me,” Heath says, drawing my attention to his apartment, number three-one-three.

I glance down at the mat in front of the door while Heath is busy with the lock. “Guys With Ink Do It Better” is written in big bold letters across it with a tattoo gun acting as the exclamation point at the end of the phrase. I roll my eyes at the typical bachelor doormat, though I can’t really argue with the statement’s validity, especially in Heath’s case.

“After you,” he says, holding the door open for me to enter.

When he flips the switch on the wall and light fills the space, I find myself shocked as hell with how tidy the place is. Like, really tidy. It’s not a big place, but what he’s done with it is incredible. His walls are painted black, and red leather furniture surrounds the large flat screen TV mounted to the adjacent wall from where we’re standing. Every table’s made of glass and accented in brushed metal. A few pieces of crazy-looking artwork that would make awesome tattoos are hung from the other walls comprising the living room area. Everything pops against the white tiled floor. My eyes travel to the kitchen and instantly I fall in love with the black-and-white checkerboard pattern on the walls, which separates it visually from the living room.

“It seems you’re doing quite well for yourself,” is all I say while continuing to take in the apartment.

“I do okay, I guess,” he laughs, which causes me to face him and send a “really?” stare in his direction. “This apartment and the car, those are the two things I saved up for the most. And I’ll have you know I’ve purchased everything out of my own pocket.”

“Impressive.”

“Thanks,” he says and moves past me, heading toward the kitchen. “So, what’s your poison? Beer, wine, liquor? I’ve got it all.”

“Surprise me,” I say, knowing full well that if I say I want wine, which I do, then he might think I’m sending him signals. Everyone knows wine makes everything sexier. Not to mention, it goes straight to my brain quicker than anything. And the last thing I need to be doing right now is getting caught up in everything Heath.

I take a seat on the plush couch directly across from the TV so I can watch Heath in the kitchen. I hear him preparing our drinks, but can’t see what he’s chosen for us since his back is facing me. I’m not complaining. Heath’s got one hell of a backside.

When he turns around with drinks in hand, I avert my eyes since I feel I was caught staring. I find myself tensely running my hand up and down the arm of the smooth leather couch because I’m trying to ease my nerves. I seem to have worked myself up while gazing at Heath and imagining him on top of me.

“Here you go,” he says, handing me a long-stemmed wineglass with a blush-colored liquid in it before plopping down next to me on the couch. He clinks the beer bottle in his hand with my glass. “Cheers.”

“How did you know I wanted wine?” I ask, studying his face.

“ESP. Just another great advantage of being half warlock,” he answers before taking a sip of his beer.

I feel my face flush. The thought of him being able to hear my thoughts makes me freak out, especially after all the X-rated visuals I’ve had in my mind about him lately. I take a huge gulp of the wine and dodge Heath’s pinning stare.

“I’m kidding,” he mentions, and I breathe a huge internal sigh. “I remembered you saying you prefer wine over beer … though you’re not a snob. I can’t leave out that part since you made it very clear.” His laugh causes me to slap his knee, because a) he mocked me, and b) he lied about having ESP.

“I can’t believe you,” I snicker.

“I know. I’m super considerate and seriously good-looking. It’s a curse, what can I say?” he jokes, and I smack him on the leg again.

“I like this,” he says after taking another swig.

I smile, but cover it up by taking another sizable gulp from the glass of wine. “Yeah, this is nice,” I agree while mouthing the edge of the glass, but secretly I’m fighting back the urge to jump on him. Damn this wine. It does this to me every time.

His knee brushes up against mine when he goes to set the beer bottle onto the glass coffee table in front of us. Heat flashes up my knee before traveling across my thigh, and I clutch my legs tight while trying to ignore it. Heath relaxes against the arm of the couch and I feel it as the leather material shifts with his movement. I sense his eyes staring at me. I haven’t dared look over at him after his knee brushed mine for fear of succumbing to my urges.

“Tell me, Liv, how does it feel to be so highly sought after?” he asks, breaking the brief moment of silence between us.

“Forgive me if I’m not overly ecstatic about being tracked down like an animal by the Guild,” I reply.

“Who said anything about the Guild?” he asks, which has me whipping my head around to look over at him.

“Oh? And who else are you talking about?” I query, though I’m pretty sure I know who he’s talking about, or in this case, hoping he’s talking about.

Heath slides closer, never breaking eye contact with me. This is it. This is the moment Heath is going to confess he has feelings for me and we’re going to have sex right here on this couch. Wait, did I seriously just think that?

I draw in a shallow breath when Heath gets a foot from my face. My body temperature has skyrocketed to feverish proportions. He just sits there, though, and doesn’t say anything. I think he’s about to speak, but instead his lips part into a slight smile.

“Heath, I …” I begin to stammer, but then stop when I see his half-smile grow into a full-on grin.

“I know I’ve said this before, but you’re really cute when you’re flustered.” His laugh is infectious and I almost let one out as well, but I smack him on the shoulder for working me up like he did.

“I seriously can’t believe you some—”

I’m silenced by Heath’s lips pressed firmly against mine. He rises up a bit and gently presses his chest against me while planting his hands on either side of my hips. He gently persuades my body to lay back against the arm of the couch before our bodies touch once more and his hips move into mine. For a brief moment, I forget about how screwed up everything is right now and just focus on how Heath’s making me feel.

He stops and pushes away slightly. “Is your phone vibrating? I can feel it on my crotch, and it’s kind of killing my hard-on.”

I was so caught up in Heath that I didn’t even notice my phone was blowing up. “Shit, it’s probably Tara. I have to answer this.” I take it out of my pocket. Tara’s name is flashing across the screen, and I quickly swipe my finger over it to answer the call.

“Sooooo, how did things go with Topher?” Tara asks before I have a chance to say hello. Her voice sounds off, like she’s hesitant. She only gets this way when she has something to tell me, but doesn’t know how to say it.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, sitting up and turning to lean against the back of the couch.

“What do you mean?” She sounds even more apprehensive this time.

“You know what I mean. You always get this tone in your voice when something’s wrong.”

“Do not,” she says unconvincingly.

“Out with it.”

There’s a pause in the conversation. “Okay … we may have a slight issue,” she squeaks.

“Please tell me it has nothing to do with Angelica.”

There’s silence again for a few seconds and then Tara’s voice comes through. “Well, you know how you said for us to stay put and not leave the room?”

“Yeah.”

“We were doing exactly that and everything was fine … until—”

“Today, Tara,” I say.

“Her sorority sisters kidnapped her to go to a frat party,” she blurts out, causing me to groan in annoyance. “I left her alone for two minutes to change over the load of laundry I was doing, and when I got back, there was a note—”

“Which fraternity?” I ask, cutting to the point.

“Theta Chi. I think their house is the first one on Greek Row. I’m sure you won’t be able to miss it. I’m so sorry, Livie.”

“Let’s hope I’m not too late,” I growl. “Stay put. I’ll be back to the room as soon as I can.”

I hang up the phone and don’t wait for her goodbye. “Females, I swear,” I murmur, and notice Heath nodding his head in agreement. “Hey, it’s one thing if I say it, but it’s quite another if you do.”

“I can’t believe Angelica would leave like that,” he comments, telling me he heard Tara through the phone.

“Yeah, well, I can. The sorority is her life, so I’m not surprised she pulled a stunt like this.”

“I guess this means we’re crashing a frat party then, huh?” he asks while standing up. He extends his hand out for mine.

“Yep, I guess so,” I reply, taking his hand and allowing him to pull me to my feet.

“And just when I thought I was done with college, here you go thrusting me back into it against my will.”

“If this year is any indication of how my college life is going to be, I’ve got one hell of a four-year plan ahead of me,” I groan.