Not His Destiny
“Her car needed fixing. He’s a mechanic. It was straight out of a boring rom-com. Gruff bad boy meets sweet, rich girl. It was ridiculous.”
I twist my fingers together until my knuckles pale and bite the inside of my lip. “Tell me something, Salvatore. What was it like with your fated mate?”
“Whoa.” He lifts his hands. “You really want to go that deep?”
“Stop.” I laugh and shove him lightly. “Not like that. I mean the pull. What does it feel like?”
“Insane,” he says simply. He plants both hands on the counter and stares off for a second. When he looks back at me and sees whatever expression I’m wearing, probably desperate, probably pathetic, his voice softens.