My stomach dropped. Zayne. Again.
A smirk tugged faintly at the corner of his lips as though he had rehearsed this moment and was waiting to see how I’d react.
“What kind of a creepy devil are you?”
He came fully to view. By the desk, then he raised a thick brow, “Creepy devil?”
“I guess my friend’s threat didn’t work on you. What are you doing here?” I shot the question at him. But he didn’t look fazed a bit.
“Well, that’s not how to say ‘Thank you’ for helping you out earlier.” His British accent sang.
I exhaled. “No one asked for your help. You are to stay away from me.”
He tilted his head slightly at the rose still extended between us. “My wrist is starting to ache, so how about you save me the pain and just take it, pretty?”
I rolled my eyes and leaned back in my chair, cro
