14
13…
Squeezing my eyes shut, nope.No. I can’t do it.
I turn back around and run towards the store with the stand.
Five minutes later, I come out a happy womanwith a cherry popsicle.
Hey, I know what you’re thinking but when else am I going to find a popsicle for a dollar in this economy?
Beyoncé and Shakira, thank you for calling me out and pushing me to get a popsicle.
“You can’t bring that inside, Miss Rivera.” Ernie Williams, security guard of the building, otherwise known as boss-man (by me, of course). His features stiffen against his black skin, but I know Ernie’s not pissed. He has a soft spot for me.
Ever since his granddaughter came to work with him and I spent time making her laugh, he’s liked me.
“It’s a popsicle.” One that’s dripping down the palm of my hands.
He raises an unimpressed brow.
“Alright,” I smile widely. “I’ll finish this outside if you tell me a joke.”
I hear a quiet chuckle. “You’re exactly like Matilda.”
Matilda’s the granddaughter. Her birthday’s in exactly two weeks and we’re best friends. Her words, not mine.
“Intelligent minds think alike.”
His smile vanishes and he straightens himself when he looks behind me.
Popping the melting popsicle back in my mouth, I turn around to see what has him worked up.
A black Bentley pulls up to the side of the road, right in front of the doors.
I shuffle to the side, so my right shoulder meets the large glass of the building.
Ernie walks over to open the door and I hold my breath. I’ve heard the workers at Vuk Securities talk about this before. Girls gushed over how hot all of them looked stepping out of their car. I’ve imagined itbefore, but witnessing it in real time? Jaw is dropped.
Calahan Vuk is the first to walk out. The middle brother of three. Some say he’s sensitive, others say he has anger issues. I don’t know him well enough to base a judgement off of what I’ve seen and heard. His dark suit fits against him like a cage. The buttons closed all the way to his throat, even his necktie pleads with him to chill. His blonde hair is cut short to his scalp, a buzz at the growing out stage. He doesn’t acknowledge Ernie when he walks inside the building.
Azar—the youngest—steps out next. Instead of the typical suit, he’s wearing a linen shirt that’s loose and flowy. His black hair is floppy yet styled in that meticulous way of his. He stretches his arms out behind his head, thick muscles bulge and makes me laugh because it’s so Azar to do that in the middle of the street. He leans his sunglasses-covered eyes up to the sky. He told me he’d be back next week. That little liar. Unlike Calahan, he thanks Ernie with an adorable hug before stepping back and letting the oldest Vuk brother out.
His Damien loafers make an appearance first before he elegantly steps out of the car. The sun blazes on him like some kind of spotlight he’s reserved for this entrance. He stands straight, naturally buttoning the middle of his navy-blue suit jacket. There’s no tie matching it. The top couple of buttons were undone, showing a speck of chest hair and skin.
I swallow hard, only for the artificial cherry flavour to get stuck in my throat. I start coughing. Loudly. Horrendously. My mouth opens wide as I smack my chest.
The rough tickle passes down the pharynx and I make the biggest mistake of looking up.
Deep, dark, green eyes are looking directly at me.
My heart stops beating.
“Nova?”
It takes physical effort to look away from his sharp gaze to Azar. The contrast is astonishing. While Dean is all rough, hard, and muscular. Azar is soft, strong, and… also extremely broad.
He smiles brightly, giving much needed golden retriever energy.
