STIX
I glanced towards my father who was wearing a sheepish look. Yeah, he should have talked to me last night.
“You can call me Stix’s” I reply coolly, taking his large hand and feeling the warmth from it. I expected him to show dominance and grip me, instead, his large thumb stroked the back of my small hand in a flirtatious kind of way.
My stomach flutters as this handsome man locks his deep blue orbs with mine. He was easy on the eyes, confident and built, and a good foot plus taller than me. His blue-washed jeans hugged his thighs and his white shirt stretched across his arms tightly showing off his toned muscles. The black vest he wore donned the skull of a wolf with crossbones.
I furrowed my eyes, trying to think where I had seen that image before.
“Stixs? That’s unusual,” The blond hunk chuckles.
“She was given that nickname as a kid, it stuck.” My father laughs along with him but for a different reason.
Stixs was the name my mother had given to me because I didn’t take any st
