Him. Zach is leaning against the brick wall, his foot propped up. A cigarette hangs from his lips and he doesn’t have his jacket on, leaving him in his dark t-shirt that shows off his bulging biceps. Oh jeez. He isn’t even flexing them and they look menacing. “You scared the fuck out of me,” I accuse. An intricate-looking Victorian lantern lends enough light that I can see him. His face is turned toward me and I can’t escape the sheer grandness of his features. Sharp and cutting with a square jaw and high cheekbones, complete with dark velvet hair. “I can see that,” he comments. Then his
...more
