Reading His Mind Read Online Free

raised, almost making his forehead disappear under his caramel-colored boy-band bangs. His hair wasn’t long because he intended to be trendy, but, rather, because he didn’t care enough what others thought to take the time to get it cut. “Really?”
    I nodded.
    He frowned. “How did I not know?”
    I shrugged ending the conversation. He turned to look at his latest conquest sitting by Jace.
    “You brought home a little snack for yourself.” His voice dropped to a conspiracy theory whisper. “You trashy Jezebel.”
    “Jace is an old friend, and people who live in slutty glass houses shouldn’t even look at stones.”
    Moving with the grace of a feline, he scooped his date off the couch and looked at me over his shoulder. “My stones are just dandy, thank you very much.”
    His date offered a bit of resistance. “But I was getting to know Jack,” she whined, either too drunk or too dumb to get his name right. Squirming, she reached out for Jace who smiled but moved not another muscle.
    “Jack doesn’t belong to us, sweetie. We have plenty of our own toys in the bedroom.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me, and she giggled. “See you in the morning.”
    Before I could form a reply, the door latch clicked into place behind them, leaving Jace and me, once again, alone.
    I didn’t have to be a mind reader to see the question in his eyes. “Roommate. He takes care of the building while I’m working.”
    Jace leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. Neither of us spoke for so long, I began shifting from one foot to the other. “I went to one of your games.” He’d pitched an almost-perfect game—a one hitter. In an unfortunate turn of events, the single hit he’d allowed had shot over the left-field wall, and Atlanta had lost the game 1-0. “George loves baseball. He wanted to go, so we went while I was in Savannah buying my house.”
    “Did we win?”
    I shook my head.
    He laughed. “Was I pitching?”
    This time, I nodded. “I called out your name. I thought you saw me,” I lied. There’d been standing room only. Thankfully, I’d ordered our nosebleed seats when I planned the trip. He played along. “I thought that was you. I looked for you after, but you must have snuck out.” We crept back to awkward. “So, you are here for work?”
    If there existed a single topic to get me talking, it had to be my job. “Yeah. I usually start cases at the beginning and help pick the juries, but this one is for a friend from college.” My stomach churned at the thoughts of the elements missing in the case. “I sat in the last two days to watch. I don’t have a good feeling.”
    “You went to college?”
    His question was fair, all things considered. I’d run off at sixteen, long before finishing high school. I nodded. “Yep.”
    He looked up at me from beneath lashes that made envy crawl into my belly. How was it, I wondered, that men, who had no use for them, were always blessed with long eyelashes while I had to buy mine? I planned to save the question for my heavenly encounter with the Lord. His voice broke into my wandering thoughts. “Lyric, is there a reason you’re practically hugging your countertop?”
    I bit the corner of my lip. “Maybe.”
    He unfolded his frame, and I resisted the urge to run. “Are you afraid of me?”
    I shook my head.
    He moved close enough I could feel his body heat, his breath on my skin. “Did you think about me all these years?”
    “No,” I whispered.
    “Not at all?” He ran his fingers through my hair, watching his hand rather than me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of his face. He had a small scar below his lip, the result of Dylan punching him in tenth grade, busting his mouth open.
    “No.” I couldn’t pull enough air into my lungs to make my voice louder.
    “Why not?”
    “I thought I would miss you too much.” The truth lay in my words. In the morning, however, I could chalk it up to the tequila.
    “I missed you. I even looked for you.” He