Edge of Living by H. L. Day

Author:H. L. Day [Day, H. L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Gay / Lesbian / LGBT
ISBN: 9781729114032
Google: KhtMwgEACAAJ
Goodreads: 42102036
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services LLC - Kdp Print Us
Published: 2018-10-25T22:00:00+00:00

* * * *

It was a stroke of luck to have bumped into the blond guy again; the same one that Oliver had so comprehensively scared off less than a week ago. Once I'd assured him that Oliver was no longer my boyfriend, and in point of fact never really had been, he'd relaxed. His name was Harry. He was nice, uncomplicated, easy to talk to, and a damn good kisser, which was exactly what I needed.

I backed him against the railing of the dance floor, our kisses growing more heated with every passing moment, and quickly reaching that point where it was only a matter of time before one of us would suggest taking it to somewhere more private than a crowded nightclub. I smiled at the thought, hoping that he had a place to go back to. And then suddenly, I was wrenched away. I barely had time to witness my own feelings of surprise and confusion mirrored on Harry's face before my momentum sent me careening face-first into a table full of people.

Glass broke. People started screaming abuse, prompted by my sudden and unexpected interruption. A girl, pulling at her top now soaked in beer started crying. I stumbled, my hand coming down on the table as I tried to right myself. There was no time to even think about apologizing to all the people I'd upset before I was pulled in another direction, my back hitting a wall, moments before my head did too, hard enough to make me see stars.

A hand in the center of my chest pinned me in place; the sick familiarity of the gesture filling in the blanks seconds before Oliver's face floated into view, his normally handsome features twisted in rage. What the hell was I supposed to have done? Right, I'd been kissing Harry. But, even with that recollection, this reaction still made no sense. We were done. I'd made that blatantly clear and he'd accepted it.

The hand on my chest moved upward, fingers curling around my neck and squeezing. As I stared into his face, I was completely and utterly filled with fear. There was nothing of the Oliver Calthorpe I'd known in this man. This man was a stranger, with every feature cataloguing his lack of control from the bulging eyes to the cords of his neck standing to attention.

The fingers tightened further, the pressure beginning to cut off the oxygen and make it difficult to breathe. If he squeezed just that little bit harder, he was going to kill me. In a panic, I brought my hand up, fitting it over his and desperately trying to prize his fingers away, but it was like trying to detach the fangs of a snake. From somewhere, I managed to find my voice. "P...ple...ase...don't hurt me."

In the blink of an eye, his face changed. It was like a shutter coming down, the features relaxing until he looked like himself again; the murderous look gone so quickly I began to doubt whether it had ever been there.

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