Wilder (Storm MC #9) - Nina Levine Page 0,1

two just decided to have a party for two in here tonight?”

My eyes cut to the door, landing on Wilder, who’s resting against the doorjamb with his arms crossed and an amused look on his face. I can’t stand that expression of his. Like, don’t come at me all amused and shit when I don’t know what’s amusing about me.

I purse my lips as I stare at him. “Do you ever take a night off?”

He pushes off from the door and walks towards us, those muscles of his flexing in all the ways I wish they wouldn’t. The man might irritate the fuck out of me, but I’m still a girl who appreciates muscles and ink, and hell if he doesn’t have it all going on. Possibly, that irritates me the most about him. He should be overweight with pasty white skin that’s never seen ink. That’d work a whole lot better for me.

“What are you doing in here?” he asks when he reaches us.

Before I can make some shit up, Harlow pipes up, “Doing the stocktake Scarlett forgot to do this afternoon.”

I could kill her.

Wilder’s amused expression returns. “I see.”

Ugh. He and I had a disagreement yesterday that centred around my memory. He tried to tell me I’ve been forgetting to do things lately. I argued back that I have a perfect memory. Screw him for being right and double screw him for getting this kind of confirmation.

I’m definitely killing Harlow.

“You see nothing,” I snap and turn back to my counting.

He chuckles, which confuses me. Wilder never laughs around me. Mostly he sighs a lot and appears frustrated by everything. Actually, come to think of it, he seems a lot more relaxed than he ever is around me. Everyone thinks Wilder’s an easy-going guy, but I can’t say I’ve ever thought that about him.

“Oh, you have no idea what I see, Scarlett,” he says.

Turning back to him, I say, “Are you drunk?”

His lips spread out in a grin. “I’ve had a few drinks, but that doesn’t mean I’ll forget this moment.” He leans closer to me. “My memory is great.”

“Fuck off.” He might be my boss, but we’re not on the clock right now.

He chuckles again. “You do remember I’m your boss, right?”

“That is something I’ll never forget.”

“Good.”

Harlow takes this moment to stand and interrupt us with, “When are you two gonna get your shit together?”

Wilder looks at her, confused. “Huh?”

She shakes her head like he’s the biggest idiot she knows. Then, waggling her finger between us, she says, “This.”

“This what?” Wilder asks, still wearing confusion like a second skin.

“Just ignore her,” I say. I know exactly what she’s going on about because she’s mentioned it to me before. She thinks Wilder and I have chemistry or some shit. She’s mistaken. All we have is a whole lot of annoyance with each other. The man drives me fucking crazy. The kind of crazy where I’m actually concerned for his life some days.

“You two are made for each other,” Harlow says.

Wilder’s eyes go wide. It almost makes me want to laugh, but I don’t do laughter. Except, right now, I actually could laugh at him. He looks like Harlow just said the strangest thing he’s ever heard.

He glances at me for a second before looking back at her. “You say the oddest shit sometimes, Harlow.”

I nod. It’s maybe the first time I’ve ever agreed with him in the year and a half I’ve known him. “I told you, ignore her.”

Harlow waves us off dismissively. “I know what I see, and I see you two together. And I’d really like to see that before I die, okay, so get your shit together or I might have to do it for you.”

With that, she walks away from us and exits the storeroom, leaving Wilder and I staring after her.

“Jesus,” he says, eyeing me. “She’s lost the plot.”

I nod, agreeing with him for a second time. That annoys me, so I snap, “Yeah, now do you think you could leave me in peace so I can get this job done and go home?”

The look of frustration I know so well appears in his eyes. “Yeah, and do you think you could leave your attitude at home tomorrow? We’ve got a lot on, and I don’t need you in my face arguing with me over every damn thing.”

“Of course, I live to serve you, master.” Asshole.

“Clearly,” he mutters before leaving me.

My traitorous eyes drop to his ass as he exits the room. I’ll be