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Tragic

Page 13

   


But Rook isn't a model. She might be one next week when we start this campaign, but right now, she's just a girl.
And the only thing I know right now is that I want her.
"So Rook, tell me. Do you think you'll like modeling?"
"Yeah," she says, "I'll love it, as long as it pays me money. I just want a job, you know?"
She tilts her head back as she swings forward, making her whole body dip, and I imagine how she might look underneath me in bed—arching her back as I tickle her stomach with kisses. I snap out of the fantasy. "Do you have family here in Denver?"
"No."
That's all I get. No.
"Friends?"
"Nope."
Again, she offers nothing.
"So how did you get here?" I push.
"Fate." She laughs and jumps off the swing the next time it goes forward. She lands on her knees in the grass and then rolls down on her back. "That was fun, thank you." She gets to her feet and waits.
Despite her smile and her laugh, I recognize the move. She just ended the night.
"You're welcome. Want me to write the code down for you? So you can go get breakfast in the morning?"
"Yeah, sure," she says, already walking towards the garden studio. She punches in her code, which is all ones, so not a big deal, but she punches it in like she's lived here all year and not half a day. "Is there some paper and a pen in here? I haven't looked through everything yet."
"Yeah," I say. "In the top drawer next to the stove."
She shoots me a weird look, wondering how I know that probably, but I don't offer up an explanation and she simply hands the stuff over and I write down my code. "The doors are off hours all weekend, so you have to use the code at all times. OK?"
She nods. "Thanks."
Aaaaand… that's it. She's shut me down.
I take the hint and move towards the door. "OK, I guess I'll see you around tomorrow?"
She holds the door as I stand there waiting for an answer. "Sure."
I sigh and step out, feeling a little hurt as the door quickly closes behind me.
Chapter Ten - ROOK
I lean my body back against the door after I force myself to close it on Ronin's face. It was so difficult to end this night but I'm not ready to get close to anyone, especially a guy like Ronin. He's dangerous, I can tell. He's some kind of supermodel, he runs the girls, whatever that means, and he's hot as f**king hell.
I giggle at my private swooning.
But it's true. My heart is still racing and it's not all because he scares me either. He does scare me though. I'm afraid of just about everything he represents. I mean let's be honest, all the best-looking guys cheat. That's a given. They know they look good, they probably spend all their time at the gym trying to maintain those bodies, and they only want one thing. But they want that one thing from as many girls as they can get, not just one thing from one girl. Because if I could find me a hot guy who only wanted that one thing from just me, I might think about it.
But seriously—Ronin is not that guy. He's practically got himself a harem of models that he claims like a caveman. Hell, even Elise told me to tell the diner I belonged to Ronin.
It's degrading.
And that whole ordering for me thing? I'm still confused about that. Because we both know it started out as a challenge, to see how far I'd let him walk all over me. But then he turned it on me with his logic and made me feel stupid for putting up a fight.
I huff out a breath and walk back to the bedroom and shuffle through my backpack to find my toothbrush. Everything I own is contained in this bag. And it's not much. Two pairs of jeans, besides the ones I'm wearing. And four more t-shirts. I don't even have underwear, because if you can believe this, someone at the shelter pilfered through my stuff and stole it all. They didn't just steal the underwear, that would be sick. They took all my clothes. So I had to get these all from the thrift store down the street from the shelter last week.
I grab what few toiletries I have and pull out a drawer to stash them away.
But the drawer is filled with stuff. Girl stuff. Make-up, lotion, nail polish. All sorts of things I'd love to buy on a regular basis but have had to go without for the past few months.
I sigh with satisfaction and then start to brush my teeth.
Rook, your luck has changed. This is a huge break. Last night I was holding a knife to my chest, ready to cut the pervert in the cot next to me if he tried to touch me again, and tonight I'm living—living—in a rooftop garden apartment on the trendy side of town. Is life weird or what?
It is weird, but I try not to think about it too much because if life can change for the better this fast, then it can change for the worse as well. I remember the money Elise gave me this afternoon and dash back to the bedroom to pull it out from under the mattress. I guess it's overkill to stash money in my own apartment that I live in by myself—this makes me privately squeal—but I can't help it.
Plus, I remind myself that I am making a list of why Ronin is not the guy for me, no matter how fast my heart thumps when he's near. That whole I'll order for you thing is cute the first time they do it, maybe. It's not for me, but if I was another girl, it might be cute. But in my mind, that shit is a red flag. Flying high out above his head. It says I want to control you.
And I'm not into that at all. Hell, I barely escaped the last boyfriend with my life, there's no way I'm getting involved with another guy who thinks he can tell me what to do.