THE CONTRACT (The Chosen Series #2)

MO THINE

Pulling up to a vacant petrol bowser, I step out, my mind still foggy from my conversation with Alexei. Why can't he let me be? Swiping my card, I fill up on autopilot and drive over to the roadhouse section to park. Taking a moment to collect myself, I turn off the ignition and stare ahead, my gaze unfocused.

A solid tap on the side of my window jolts me from my thoughts. Flinching, I see Liam outside my car, fingers bouncing on my glass, a wide victor's grin on his face. Not in the mood for him to gloat, I push my door open and step out.

Cracking my neck, I block out his laugh and storm past him, heading directly for the bathroom, Liam hot on my heels. Ignoring everyone in my way, I push open the restroom door and head straight for the sink. Turning on the tap, I let the cold water run, looking at my reflection in the mirror, wincing at the wildness in my eyes. Get a grip. I breathe deep, my hands curling around the base of the sink, the porcelain whining at the heat from my fingers.

As the door creaks open behind me, ready to demand whoever it is to leave, my eyes catch Liam's reflection in the mirror. His substantial presence occupies the limited space. With a cocky grin, he closes the door and turns the lock, anticipating my response. "Didn't peg you for such a sore loser, Mo Thine."

My fingers tense at the mention of the words "Mo Thine," a term I know translates to "my fire." Releasing the sink, I plunge my hands under the cold water, and light steam billows. He couldn't have seen...

"Erin, are you listening to me?" he adds, his arrogance receeding.

"Whatever," I mumble, willing my body to cool under the frigid water.

"Erin," he comes again, this time placing a hand on my shoulder and standing directly behind me, the top of my dark hair reaching just below his chin. "Talk to me."

Flexing my fingers under the water and counting back from five, I offer him a fake smile before rolling my eyes. "I'm just a bad loser."

Moving closer, his body heat mingling with mine, I'm tempted to lean back into his warmth, my body pulsing with unrestrained energy just from his sheer proximity. "Why don't I believe you, Mo Thine?" He whispers, his words caressing my ear as he dips his head closer, sniffing, "I smell fear, and..."

"Enough, Fido," I growl, pushing him away. "I'm a sore loser, so congrats. Get out of my way before my sulking gets ugly."

With a surrendering smile, he raises his hands. Inwardly scolding myself for forbidden thoughts, I remind, "Erin, he's Ava's... Vagina, calm down!" My expression earns a laugh from him, "You really hate losing, Mo Thine?"

Whatever look I must be showing on my face as I tell my lady bits to calm down causes him to laugh, "You really don't like losing, do you Mo Thine?"

Relieved he's dropping it, I unlock the door and stomp towards the barista, prompting another chuckle. He thinks I'm a diva—better than knowing the truth.

"I'll grab drinks. Want something, Mo Thine?"

"Skinny Chai," I reply, adding, "Stop calling me your fire," as I eye the cookies.

"You know Gaelic?" Surprise colors Liam's voice.

"A bit, I also speak Russian, Japanese, and Chinese," I say, eyeing a double choc fudge biscuit.

"Hmm," Liam muses, then orders a Latte, skinny Chai, and four double choc fudge cookies to go.

"You didn't need those. Just the Chai is fine," I sigh, annoyed he caught my chocolate obsession.

Accepting the bag from the blushing barista, Liam laughs, "Who said I ordered them for you?"

Liam grabs a cookie from the brown paper bag, devouring half with a groan at the crispy, sugary delight. "Mmm, so good," he teases, eliciting a small smile from me. "There she is," he grins, offering me the bag, its mouthwatering scent wafting through the air.