2. Nix

two

nix

My girl lived in a bubble.

She thought the world was good and safe. She had no idea of the darkness that lured in every corner. In a way, I should have been thankful for it; it made my life easier when I followed her from her place to the bus stop. There were a couple of people waiting. Everyone looked tired, bleary eyed as they looked out toward the street.

But not Vivi.

Vivi was bright eyed with a soft smile on her face that made me ache to get close. To look at it from mere inches away before I took her lips with mine.

But I couldn't approach her.

Not yet, a voice whispered. I scowled.

I couldn't think that way. Not yet meant I had an intent to meet her. To hold her. To touch her. The whole point of texting and calling was to figure out something I didn't like about the woman who had turned my life upside down and my soul inside out in one single moment that lasted less than a minute.

It still shook me up when I thought about it. She had done that in less than a minute. I had no idea why it shocked me. In my line of work, I knew firsthand how a situation could go from bad to worse in the blink of an eye.

I was a hard man.

One who didn't believe in happily ever afters. But as I watched her from where I was trying to blend in as I leaned against a brick wall, I knew he didn't exist anymore. I was a hard man for a lot of other reasons now.

Even now, my dick ached.

It didn't matter that I'd stroked myself inside my car parked outside her building; it hadn't taken the edge off. The fucker was insatiable when it came to her. Nothing I tried did. I had a sinking feeling it was all her fault.

The bus pulled up and snapped me out of my thoughts. I watched everyone stand. She moved and helped an older lady who should have been at home at those late hours instead of getting off work from the looks of how she was dressed. The lady had been sitting on the bench, and Vivi helped her up. She thanked her, patting her hand, and Viv smiled at her. I fucking felt that in more than my chest. Warmth seeped into every deep corner of my being.

Vivian was kind.

Sweet.

Generous.

She was soft and vulnerable and in serious need of someone to watch over her. You, you idiot. It wasn't the first time the thought had popped in my head, but for the millionth time, I ignored it. She got on the bus, and I did the same, like a damn creep.

Following her to the fire station with no intention of approaching her or her even looking at me. I was a damn good detective and even better when I'd worked under cover. I sat at the back of the bus. Watching her so fucking closely I was afraid to blink in case I missed something.

But I didn't.

She didn't look around when she was on the bus. She never did. She simply looked out the window, watching the city pass by. It made me wonder what she thought about.

Is she thinking about me? I took a chance and silenced my phone and shot her a text. I watched her jump as if the ping of her phone had surprised her. When she glanced at her screen, I saw her face brighten with joy. I'd seen that look since I'd started to follow her.

Fuck. First it had been watching her from afar, then the calls, and a whole six days after talking to her, I had started to park outside her place. For two nights, I'd sat in my car, watching her walk out of her building and down the block. My eyes pinned on her until she disappeared into the darkness as she made it to the bus stop.

All with my heart lodged in my throat.

Choking me with worry about some man seeing her and trying to take what I was fighting tooth and nail not to claim.

So, I started to follow her. Everywhere. I couldn't stop .

To the bus.

On the bus.

I wouldn't make my way back to my car until she was safe inside whatever building she was working her late-night shift. The nights she didn't work, I tried to stay home. Fought tooth and nail, but more often than not, I crumbled. Parked under a big willowy tree across the street from her apartment while talking to her. Jacking myself off to the sound of her voice until the fucking sun rose, then watched her head to the call center.

She worked too much.

She hardly slept.

I knew this, yet I forced myself into her life.

Milking any and every minute she could spare just to hear her speak. All she had to do was breathe for me, and my soul felt more than content. It was jarring. Crazy. I was crossing all kinds of lines for a woman I had never spoken to face to face. For a woman I had never held in my arms.

Yet, the voice in my head whispered, and as I glanced up from under the hood over my head, my gaze pinned on the woman a couple of rows ahead staring off into the city, I knew very well I couldn't keep my distance. I'd have my hands on her soon. And I was going to keep her.

It was inevitable.