How to Kill a Man in Thirty Seconds

Chapter 23: The Gift

Yeah right he was reading. More like bathing in the glory of being at the centre of their spotlight. If you want to make it look like you're reading, Hunt, maybe you shouldn't be staring at the same page for longer than five minutes. He clearly had a lot more to learn.

Ignoring the fact that the girls were still visually molesting him, I cracked my knuckles in determination, gathering up what last wits I had, before I approached him. Adrian didn't glance up as I neared him; his eyes were still searching the book intently like it held the secrets of the universe itself.

"Adrian?" I said, emotionless.

On reflex, his head lifted in answer to the call.

That was when his startled gaze met mine, green eyes widening. His entire body stilled as he registered that it was I that had spoken.

Adrian dropped the book.

My brows furrowed.

The novel hit the floor with a thud and he instantly bent, snatching it off the floor and dusting its leather bound cover. I realized it was a desperate attempt to delay the inevitable for when he straightened, his green eyed eyes gaze was flickering all over the room, everywhere except on me.

Why was he acting like this? This was so unlike him.

"Adrian," I said again, louder and his gaze shot to me.

His jaw clenched, "Yes?"

I noticed then that his typically blank face had turned a slight tinge of pink. The sight gave me new found confidence.

"We need to talk," I told him curtly, and he blinked, eyes widening- if possible- even more.

He swallowed.

I nearly laughed at the sight of it. Christ, and I had thought he was the one with leverage over me.

I felt eyes on me and realized that the gaggle of insipid girls had fallen silent. I realized with a sinking heart that with the pink flush that had fallen over Adrian's otherwise pale face, his nervous behaviour and my purposeful advance, it was easy to misinterpret our situation.

Yikes.

One hella awkward sideways glance told me they were staring at me, mentally wrapping their perfectly manicured fingers around my throat. Adrian, however, seemed to be completely oblivious to their disdain; he was still watching me with wide eyes.

"We need to talk," I repeated, sighing inwardly, "But not here."

Grabbing his arm, I dragged him roughly away from the eavesdropping girls and out the door.

The action seemed to yank him out of his stupor for no sooner had we crossed the door, that Adrian shrugged himself out of my grip. His back straightened before his familiar expressionless expression appeared. I glared at him as we drew to a halt. Unfortunately, he seemed to have regained his courage for he stared right back now, hands crossed over his chest.

"About last night," Adrian began with a conceited smirk, but I cut him off fast enough.

"No one hears of it," I muttered coldly, matter-of-factly, "It never happened. Understood?"

Adrian stared back at me boldly, and a pang of irritation hit me when I realized a slight smirk was tipping one corner of his lips, "But why would I do that?"

A chuckle escaped my lips, "Oh, Adrian, I know you're used to blurting nonsense. But that isn't going to work with me. You and I both know that I have as much leverage over you as you do over me. Need I go into the details?"