The Second Button tradition has been around since the '60s. It's a popular Japanese tradition that involves the man giving his second button to the woman he adores. A similar tradition has been around in the lives of Wolf Winchester, Chris Lancaster...
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Silence.
It had been more than fifteen minutes since we were on a late-night drive and none of us said a word to each other. Maybe there was still some lingering awkwardness from our past conversation. My gaze occasionally shifted to Wolf to see how he was doing. Call it instinct, but I had a feeling he would still try to maintain his stoic, grumpy expression around me, especially after what happened. But to my surprise, he was at ease behind the wheel. His muscles were relaxed as he slightly leaned back on his seat. There was even a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.
My lips curled in a soft smile. He seemed charming when he was not being cold, the way his hair fell on his forehead, and the way the moonlight hit his features at all the right angles made him look like the most gorgeous man on the planet. It was crazy how someone so aggravating could be devilishly handsome as well.
The perfect example of injustice to the rest of the mere mortals.
Both Chris's and his words played in the back of my head. I was so absorbed with myself and everything else, that I forgot that Chris mentioned Wolf wanting authenticity, his bluntness, and how he was a good guy despite being rough around the edges. I shut my eyes as the conversation played in my mind and internally cursed myself. Whatever happened with Wolf wouldn't have happened if I remembered what Chris told me about him. Chris and Ace weren't tolerating him solely because of their history. There was more to their friendship than what meets the eye.
And I was determined to know what.
"Wolf?"
"Yes, Sunshine?"
I rolled my eyes at him, despite feeling the butterflies fluttering.
"Could you not call me Thatcher like you used to? I never pegged you for someone who liked nicknaming others."
His eyes were still glued to the road as a small smile crept on his lips. "You're right. I'm not fond of using nicknames."
"Then why do you call me by a nickname?"
He briefly glanced at me and smirked. "You're an exception."
Even though his words made my eyes roll, I would be lying if I said his words didn't affect me or cause my cheeks to burn. I thought I was immune to flirting since I was used to the flirtations of the Heartthrob of our Academy.
Clearly, I was wrong.
Very, very wrong.
He chuckled, running a hand through his jet-black hair. It was a simple gesture, yet it had an underlying boyish charm to it. Add his smooth words and smile to that and you have a recipe for disaster.
I shook my head, trying to focus on the question I originally had for him.
