Page 143 of Sweet Venom

“Thanks.” I exhale slowly. “For the water and coming along just now.”

I think I’d be dead if he hadn’t.

That thought makes my fingers tremble on the glass.

“Anytime.” He ruffles my hair. “I’m a big, bad wolf everyone is scared of. Woo. Stay away if you don’t have a death wish and a need for a few broken face bones.”

“Are you guys all this violent?”

“Sometimes?” He forms aVat his chin with his fingers. “I’m still the prettiest, though.”

I smile a bit, and he grins. “There. Made you smile.”

My smile widens. Preston has been showing up around me out of the blue. He’ll have lunch with me and Dahlia more often than not, and that usually makes Kane and Jude join. Then both of them—especially Jude—will glare at Preston or even elbow him or stomp on his foot.

That doesn’t seem to deter Preston, though. He keeps coming back and texting me the most random things.

I reply, mostly because I feel some sense of…friendship, I guess. I’ve never really had friends aside from Dahlia, and Preston is friendly and extremely nice to me.

Dahlia said it’s weird because he’s been aggressive toward her, especially since he found out about the ex she dated for a couple of weeks, Marcus.

She always tells me to be careful with that ‘snake Preston’ since he’s unpredictable, but I haven’t sensed any bad vibes from him.

Besides, Preston is kind of my window into Jude. He answers any questions I throw at him and gives more info than I even ask for.

“What did you think of my game tonight?” he asks with the same grin, dimples still creasing his cheeks.

“You were great.”

“More passion, Vee. I know you only came to watchJude, but give more importance to my godly energy on the ice.” He narrows his eyes. “Are you one of those girls who gets blind to everyone but their boyfriend?”

I can feel the heat creeping up my cheeks. “Jude’s not my boyfriend.”

“Oh? Then what is he?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest.”

“Want me to ask on your behalf? Tell him to fuck off while I’m at it?”

“You don’t have to…”

“Well, fuck me all the way to Sunday. You like him that much?”

“I d-do not.”

He hits my shoulder with his jokingly. “Is that why you look pretty tonight? Because you totally don’t like him and didn’t come to the game and club for him?”

“Just…” I push at his arm. “Stop teasing me.”

He laughs, and something about it is so comforting. Preston is truly beautiful. I’d say he’s way more beautiful than Jude if I weren’t biased, but since I met him, I’ve felt that his arrogance about his looks is just a front.

I don’t know how to explain it, but I see myself in him—someone who’s struggling with his own perception of himself and doesn’t want to let his true self loose.

So even when he smiles or laughs or is being mischievous, it all feels calculated, because it’s his method of projecting himself onto the world.

But right now, as he laughs so genuinely, I can’t help but smile.

“No clue what you see in the man. He barely knows how to talk to a girl. He’s so closed off, he gives me a bad name.”