From Chapter: Luck is not Sentimental
Lorena squinted her eyes. "I thought his name was Christian?"
“He likes to be called Matty,” Lester Rothschild answered for him.
She turned and watched Christian keenly. “Do you always bite your lip like that?”
He stopped biting his lip. About to respond, he was inexplicably drawn to the calm honey splendor of her eyes. She had the most gorgeous pair he’d ever seen; fair, lightly yellow at the edges, timeless in the way galaxies would be rendered to the naked eye. He was gripped by their veiled mystery.
“Oh, it’s an oral fixation,” Lester said for him after a moment.
Lorena raised an eyebrow. “Is it?”
Christian scowled. A fixation? This fucking dick. He wanted to get a room somewhere and be alone, damn it. Wasn’t anybody aware of what he was going through? He said, “No, my last name is Matters, it’s just—.”
“He’s an asshole,” she finished.
Lester was indignant. “A year since I’ve seen you, Lor, and this is how I’m treated?”
“Oh, I see you often enough,” she retorted.
“Not nearly enough in the physical.”
Her eyes were straight on his. “Well, I wouldn’t be here otherwise,” she responded, turning to leave.
Lester stared after her for a couple of seconds, fascinated and intrigued. “Don’t listen to her, mate,” he said, gaze unbroken. “It’s all in good fun.”
—Alexander Helas •