How’d he get his bike over there? “Okay…” I trail off, my gaze drifting to the doorway where Loren Hale stands. I’m instantly distracted by him. Cheekbones that cut like ice. Eyes like liquid scotch. He’s much more than an alcoholic beverage, and he knows it. Lo flashes his iconic half-smile, and he says, “Never trust a bunch of Hufflepuffs to do a Slytherin’s job.”
