I should not be here. I'm a fucking idiot. I told myself a million times on the drive over to turn around. I told myself I'd stay away and I'm failing miserably.

"Remind me again what this is about?" Mitch yawns beside me, sinking lower against the bench.

I only brought him along because I didn't want to raise suspicions about my whereabouts, especially with my father. He knows everything I do in the day because he demands to stay in the loop, so privacy has never been an option. If anyone, anyone, from the South Bloods found out about this, it would be game over. I have never behaved so recklessly in my life.

"Safety," I answer him.

"Safety," He repeats, less than convinced. He tosses me an exasperated look.

I nod stubbornly. "I just want to make sure she is okay. What if someone saw us talking? She could be in danger because of it."

"So your solution is to stalk her like a creep and increase her chances of getting hurt?"

I punch his arm and he winces because I did not hold back. My glare alone tells him to get his ass back in line. He puts a hand up in surrender, sobering up.

"So, which one is she?"

I look around until I spot her on the far end of the park, sitting on one of the benches. A canvas is propped in front of her as she paints. I follow her line of sight to where a child is sitting in a sandbox and playing by herself. Laura smiles, tilting her head and moving her brush around. I point just barely and Mitch looks in that direction.

"Jesus." He whistles in appreciation. "That picture on the internet did not do her justice. That's a beauty."

My earlier glare returns. I hardly appreciate the way he's talking about her. He must see the murder on my face because he's quick to grab the front of his shirt and put it over his mouth before he says anything else that will earn a punch.

But he's right. She is beautiful. Today she's wearing a red and white polka dot dress held up by two thin straps and ending just above her knee. A loose braid holds her long brown hair away from her face as she paints, though I can already see smidges of colour on the strands. There's some on her face too and once again her hands are entirely covered. She might be passionate about art but she is very messy. It shows she does everything without a care in the world and hardly cares what others think. It's a brave trait and one I wish I had.

I've shown up at this park everyday for the past two weeks but today is the first day I'm seeing her. After she mentioned she paints here, I drove by once a day to catch a glimpse. I told myself what I told Mitch—that I was only concerned about her safety. Though her safety has nothing to do with how I can't seem to forget what it was like to kiss her, or her sweet and inviting personality as she talked to me that day in the studio. She spoke to me like I was anyone else. Not a monster or a killer. Not Raze. I felt like Greg in her presence. A regular man, enamoured by a woman who was far from regular. She has to be the most fascinating person I've ever come across. I shouldn't be as curious as I am about her because it's exactly why I can't seem to stay away.

"What does Abram think we're doing?" Mitch asks quietly. The mention of my father makes my shoulders tighten.

"Patrolling."

"Raze..."

"I know." My jaw ticks, knowing what he will say. He doesn't have to warn me. I know the consequence of what I'm doing. And yet.

Mitch shifts. "What is it about her?"

It's a fair question. I've thought the same to myself for weeks now and I give him the only answer I've been able to come up with. "She is everything I wish I could be."

"And what's that?"

"Kind. Brave. Free."

This is the first time I've admitted to anyone but myself what I truly feel. Never have I made anyone doubt my authority for even a moment. I stiffen when I realize what I've just said but Mitch pats my back.

"Always thought you were too good for this life, brother."

His statement surprises me. "I'm good at what I do. I'm the best leader any gang has seen in years. This is where I belong."

He shrugs. "Maybe not like this. Maybe you were always meant to be a leader but not like this. Not this life."

"I have no choice." My abrupt words are clear that this is the end of our conversation. This will always be my life. I'd be a fool to think otherwise. I'm the son of Abram for fuck's sake. I will always have eyes on my every move. I'm trapped and I've made my peace with it. It is a death wish to question it any further.

"She digs you," Mitch suddenly chuckles. "The way she's looking at you...damn."

I'd been staring at the ground but his words compel me to look where I know Laura is sitting. Immediately my eyes meet hers because she was already looking at me. Mitch is right. The sheer vulnerability on her face allows me to see everything she is feeling. No one has ever looked at me like that.

She smiles shyly and waves a hand, sweet as she is. I didn't mean for her to see me. It's almost time for me to go anyway. I nod back, knowing that I won't be able to resist her now that she knows I'm here.

"We should go," I tell Mitch.

"Wait." He holds a hand out when I try to stand. "She's coming here."

I curse under my breath. "It's a bad idea. Let's go. I need to get back to headquarters."

"I'll cover for you." Mitch fights to hold me in place. "I can come up with something. Just be a guy and hang out with the chick who wants you. For once just do something for yourself, man."

Laura gets closer and I feel a surge of panic. "I can't."

This time Mitch laughs. "You've fought the most dangerous fuckers in this city and you're pissing your pants over a girl half your size. She has you right where she wants you whether we leave or stay. Might as well get something out of it. C'mon."

Fuck. I can feel my reserve slipping. I look at Mitch seriously. "I owe you."

"Like hell. I would've died if you didn't take me under your protection. You saved my life, man. I want you to go live yours now."

I nod my thanks just as Laura stops in front of us. She fidgets with the ends of her braid nervously. "Hey."

I pull my eyes away from her bare legs and look up at her. Fucking hell, she's even prettier up close. I'm out of words already.

"I'm Mitch." The ass-hat veers right in with a charming smile, holding his hand out. "I've heard a lot about you."

I will kill him. He ignores my glare as he shakes hands with Laura. I'm oddly jealous of their contact.

"Oh." Laura sounds surprised. I reluctantly look at her, not sure what to make of the way she's biting the inside of her cheek. "Nice to meet you, Mitch. I'm Laura."

"I know." He winks. Seriously, I will kill him.

"I'm surprised Greg has friends." As soon as the words leave her mouth she covers it with a horrified expression. "Not like that! I just meant, you struck me as a bit of a loner."

"He is," Mitch supplies. "I'm just special. Clearly."

"Clearly," Laura agrees with her dimpled grin. I'm growing increasingly annoyed at how taken Mitch looks with her. It's very unlike me to feel so possessive.

"I'm out." He throws his hands up when he sees the way my nostrils flare. "I can give you an hour, man. No more."

I nod grimly at the reminder. It's more than I expected to have with her so I should be grateful. He tosses one final smile at Laura and jogs off, leaving just us. Laura wastes no time taking his seat beside me.

"Hi," She smiles sweetly. Her eyes graze over me. "You look really handsome."

Why does she always have good things to say about me? I don't deserve them.

"Thank you," I say anyway, not wanting to come across as a dick. "Red suits you."

She looks down at her dress and back up at me, her cheeks now matching her clothes. "Thanks."

I tip my head toward where she was sitting before. "Did you finish your painting?"

"I did," She nods.

"Are you sure you're not wearing half of it?" My lip twitches. It's uncommon for me to be so teasing. It's a foreign feeling but the way Laura giggles makes my discomfort worth it.

"I'm kind of a mess, aren't I?" She scrunches her nose. It reminds me of a rabbit. It's very cute.

"Dirty can be good." My voice sounds deeper than usual and this time I can't look away from her legs. They look long in this dress even though she's so short. My eyes travel back up, over her slender waist and small breasts. Small but perky and all kinds of inviting. By the time I make it back to her face she's wearing that same flushed glow she did when I kissed her. The reminder tugs my gaze to her lips that she's currently nibbling on.

"I thought I wasn't going to see you again," She admits on a whisper.

"Did you want to?" I find myself asking. "See me again?"

"Very much." She fiddles with the ends of her braid some more. "I might have made another painting of you. My friends think I'm obsessed. You must think I'm obsessed. God, why am I still talking?"

Her nervousness is sweet. She ducks her head and I catch her chin, lifting her head back up just like I did when I kissed her. Her blue eyes search mine, wide with anticipation.

"I came to this park everyday hoping to see you," I admit. "I might be obsessed myself, darling."

Her smile disappears behind the hold of her teeth. "You talk so formally. Loosening up would do you some good."

"It was part of my tr—it was how I was raised. Better speaking etiquette commands authority. Respect."

"You already have my respect," She murmurs. "Loosen up."

"How?"

She squints one eye. "It gives me butterflies when you call me darling. But it also sounds like something a grandfather would say. Maybe lose the g?"

My brows crease. "Darlin'?"

Her eyes light up. "That's it. That was so you."

"I don't think so. That sounded awful. Besides, I'm not southern."

"Oh, come on. It might grow on you. Try it again?"

This is beyond uncomfortable. But the hopeful way Laura looks at me, the way she gradually scoots closer to me, is all the convincing I need. "Okay, darlin'."

She grins and I'm greeted with that dimple of hers. "God, that was perfect. You don't think so?"

I think you're perfect, I want to say. Instead I shake my head and look away. I'm losing my head over this girl and fast. She might be the most dangerous thing I've ever done in my life.

She crosses one leg over the other, her foot entangling around mine. Her flip-flops show off her red toenails and even her feet have smidges of paint. I hold back a smile.

"Can I ask you something?" She asks softly. I turn my head to look at her. Her face is closer than it was before and all I can think about is kissing her again.

"Yes," I say, trying to stay on track.

"What made you come back? You sounded like you really wanted me to stay away. I listened to you—I didn't search you up again or anything."

"The truth is I should still be staying away. My being here is a very bad idea."

"Then how come you're here?"

I search her face, so open as she waits for my answer. Her honesty makes me want to give it back. "It seems you've made quite an impression on me. Enough that I won't take my own advice."

"Oh." She looks away but I catch her hint of a smile. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not."

She looks at me again, taking in a deep breath. "Can I ask you another question?"

That she asks to ask a question every time is very amusing. It's no wonder I'm constantly fighting smiles. "Yes."

"Why did you kiss me that day?"

"Because I wanted to," I say without missing a beat. Maybe I am starting to loosen up around her. I can't seem to think straight. "I thought I wouldn't be seeing you again."

"And now that you're back...do you regret it?"

"No," I shake my head, holding her eyes. "Nothing could have stopped me from kissing you."

I think my answer appeases her. She presses her lips to stop a smile but that dimple still makes an appearance. She whispers, "One more question?"

"Yes, Laura?"

"Do you want to kiss me right now? Because I really want to kiss y—"

I cut her off by grabbing the back of her head and crushing my lips to hers. This time she's not surprised. She smiles against my mouth and kisses me back, small hands cupping my face as she wiggles closer. I wrap an arm around her waist and lift her weight effortlessly, setting her onto my lap. She sighs in contentment, arms going around my neck, and I take the kiss deeper in a way I didn't allow myself to last time. I part her lips with my tongue and she gives me entry, opening her mouth. My tongue meets hers and I feel like I'm on fire from the inside out when she moans quietly but sweetly. My grip on her waist tightens. I want nothing more than to rub her hips into mine but then she'd feel the evidence of my arousal and I don't want to scare her away. We're also in public.

Shit. We're in public.

I pull away quickly, breathing hard. Laura is panting too and she looks at me in concern. "Are you okay?"

The reminder that I can't be with her in the open is one I don't welcome. For a moment I forgot what a danger I am to her, how selfish I'm being.

"You're not safe with me," I tell her truthfully. She deserves it. "This is just as bad of an idea as it was two weeks ago. I don't know what I'm thinking."

"You don't feel dangerous to me," She whispers, index finger dragging across my lips. "What are you running from? Maybe I can help."

She's far too good for me. Far too sweet. And I'll never be good enough for her.

"We shouldn't do this." I catch her hand, kissing her knuckles. They're brown and yellow today.

Her eyes have become saddened. She tilts her head at me, fingers playing with the scruff on my face. She's very touchy. Affectionate.

"Mitch said he can give you an hour, right? Will you spend that hour with me?"

My chest expands with a rough intake of air. "That would be asking too much from you."

"Not if that's what I want to give you. Please, Greg?"

I hesitate, thumbs absentmindedly stroking her hipbones. I want to say no. It's on the tip of my tongue to say no. But this is my chance, isn't it? Mitch is covering for me and Laura is here right now. If I don't use this time I may not get it again. It will only be torture getting a tease of her when I can't have her completely but it's better than nothing.

"One hour," I relent. "And no place too public."

The grin she gives me is overwhelming. She's so radiant and I'm compelled to smile back but I manage to keep a straight face. "Deal."

***

We end up back at her studio. It's the only place we could think of where we would be hidden away. Laura flips the sign on the front door back to closed and brings the blinds down. I appreciate how serious she is about the privacy I asked for. There was no hesitation on her end, no questions. How can someone as good as her even exist?

"Have I ruined your plans for today?" I ask.

"I normally don't have any." Her laughter is partly self-conscious. "You haven't ruined anything."

How ironic her words are. If she only knew who I really was, she wouldn't be anywhere near me right now.

"What's wrong?" She looks at me worriedly. I know my face is passive right now despite what's going on in my head. Already she's getting far too good at reading me.

"Nothing." I brush it off. I might be taking all kinds of risks here but the less Laura knows about my life, the better. Withholding the truth is for her own good. "I admit, I'm curious about the painting you mentioned."

There's that rosy blush again. "You want to see it?"

"I'd like to, yes."

She nods, clasping my fingers between hers again. She doesn't think twice about touching me. She does it with complete ease and trust. Selfishly, I bask in it. I really am a bastard.

We get to her studio room and, like last time, there's a canvas propped in the middle. Not covered so I immediately see the painting and my brows go up in surprise. This one is even better than the last. It's a full portrait—me standing in the ring and fists raised at the ready. Black paint surrounds the image of me and makes me the clear focus of the painting. It's intense and powerful.

"Christ," I mutter. "You really are incredible."

I can feel the rapid flutter of her pulse where our wrists touch, hands still joined. "You think so?"

I nod, reluctantly letting go of her hand. Only because I might yank her against me and kiss the hell out of her otherwise. I need to cool down a little. I get closer to the painting, impressed with the accuracy of the details. My face is sketched to perfection and the contours of my body as well. I lift my shirt up to my neck with one hand, looking back and forth in comparison.

"Looks the same," I comment and glance over at her.

She's chewing the edge of her thumb again, eyes trained on my revealed skin. There's heat in them and a lot of appreciation. A small noise comes out of me, like a chuckle but not quite, and Laura blushes before quickly looking away.

"Stop." I take hold of her thumb and draw it away from her mouth.

"Sorry," She apologizes, breathless. "Bad habit. I do that when I'm nervous."

"Am I making you nervous?"

"No. I mean, kind of."

"How's that?" I ask in all seriousness.

She gestures to my body. "You know...you're so...wow. I'm tempted to drop and do twenty to get at your level."

The corner of my mouth twitches. I take a step closer to her, hand curving around the bend in her waist and tugging her against me. She sucks in a breath but doesn't take her eyes away from mine.

"You are beautiful," I assure her. I don't understand why she would ever think otherwise. "I'm the one that might be in over my head here."

"Doubtful," She whispers, smiling shyly.

I shake my head, dropping my voice several octaves. "I mean it, Laura. If I had it my way, I would rip this dress off your body right here. Maybe take you against that wall. I'm the furthest thing from the respectable gentleman you deserve."

Her breath catches, eyes widening innocently. There's no mistaking the desire in them, however.

"Maybe I don't want a respectable gentleman," She murmurs tentatively.

My eyes fall shut. I feel like I'm in pain. "Don't tempt me."

I feel her hands glide up my chest before cupping the back of my neck. Her fingers play with the tuft of my hair, eliciting a groan from me. The barest touch and I'm at her mercy. Women have done far more and rarely accomplished this kind of reaction from me. It only confirms that Laura is unlike anyone I've ever met.

When I feel her body swaying I open my eyes, confused. "What are you doing?"

"Dancing," She grins.

Though my body is completely still, she's not undeterred. "There is no music."

"Who says you need music to dance? I make my own rules." She juts her chin out in an attempt to look tough. It's getting harder to conceal my smiles around her. "I'm a rebel like that."

"Very scary," I confirm seriously and she throws her head back in laughter. I watch her for a moment, compelled. Hypnotized. "I don't dance, you know."

"That's okay." And I know she means it too. "Want to play some poker instead?"

This time I can't contain the way my features shift. My eyebrows jump up in obvious surprise. "You play?"

"Who doesn't?"

"Well, you never struck me as the type."

"I'm actually really good. Just saying."

I shake my head slowly. "I've been playing since I was ten. You don't want to play with me unless you are willing to lose."

She raises a brow a little saucily, challenge clear in her eyes. "Let's see what you got, Raze."

She beats me three times in a row, clearing my pockets and all the cash I have on me. What a fucking woman.

__________________________

A/N

UMMM why are they so sweet and perfect? I'm officially in love! I feel their chemistry all the way in my bones!

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Happy Reading :)