As Cold as Ice

chapter 6

CADEN

Lennie St. James is something peculiar.

It was shocking enough to see her at the game earlier, wearing my old jersey. I had to do a double take, check that it really was the guitar-wielding girl.

It was. It is. And now she's in my house, thankfully with absolutely no idea we've met before. When I was threatening to kill three people and all that.

I spotted fucking Rowan-lapdog-Redwood leading her off somewhere, so I followed and kept a close eye from the other side of the kitchen.

Couldn't stop the laugh as she lashed her drink at him.

And now she's standing in front of me, running a coy finger around the rim of her vodka-cran.

"Oh?" She says, lifting her round, honey eyes towards my own. "I didn't realise that was your jersey. It was Hana's idea." She shrugs.

Sure she didn't.

"Maybe you should listen to Hana more often," I chuckle, resting an arm against the wooden island and pouring out some Smirnoff.

"Why's that?" She quirks a dark, fluffy eyebrow.

"Looked good." I grin, taking a vodka shot. Her eyes flare momentarily before she rapidly diverts her gaze.

"In that case, maybe I will," she smiles against the sip of her drink.

"Mightn't be my business, but why did you waste your drink on Redwood?" I ask, watching her involuntary edge a little closer to me as somebody pushes against the island behind her.

She heaves out a tipsy groan, stretching her arms forward on the surface. I'm reminded of how those lean arms felt around me when I gave her a ride.

"Because he was being a fucking dick," she blurts.

I raise my eyebrows, the language catching me off guard for somebody who looks so innocent. "A 'fucking dick'?" I chuckle. "Sounds apt."

"Yeah, he mentioned he wasn't exactly a fan of you." She gestures a hand up and down my body with a grin.

"Doesn't surprise me. I'm not exactly a 'fan' of him, either." I say truthfully. There's something not right about that man, and I've always been good at sensing bad intentions.

She bites on her lip in thought, and the small movement irritatingly shoots something right to my groin. Maybe I'm the one with bad intentions.

"Whatever," she eventually huffs, "I want to forget about him for now. He's tomorrow's problem."

"Don't you live in a flat with him? You'll have to face him when you get back." I laugh, pouring another vodka shot.

She glowers at me. "Thanks for the reminder," she scoffs. "Pour me one of those, whilst you're at it."

I raise my eyebrows with a smirk at her little demand. "No manners, St. James?"

"I'm out of good manners for the night. Throwing a drink over my friend's head was apparently when they went out the window." She shrugs. I do as she says, pouring her a shot and sliding it to her.