10
Anna
I’d missed his dimple, that was for sure, but it was probably best not to share that. I crossed my arms over my chest. “No, I didn’t miss you,” I said, hoping the acidic tone of my words would make him go away. “I thought you hated my guts.”
He shrugged. “Hate’s such a strong word.” His gaze flicked over me. “I like this look on you.”
I looked down at myself. White T-shirt with the karate school name across the chest, tan cargo shorts and flip-flops. My hair was back in a ponytail, my makeup was minimal. I needed a shower. “Is this more in line to what you think a killer should wear?”
Nick glanced around, not bothered by the people moving past us, but I could see anger flare in his eyes along with the heat. He moved in close so I had to tilt my head back. I wouldn’t retreat an
