Aria Snow pov :
I had absolutely no idea what to expect from Killian.
He didn't do romance. He did violence.
Dress casual, was the only text I had received from him all day.
I stood in front of the mirror in my room, adjusting the collar black leather jacket. Underneath, I wore a simple white t-shirt and a ripped denim jeans. I pulled my white hair up into a messy, high ponytail.
A roar of an engine echoed from the driveway.
I walked over and looked out. Killian was sitting behind the matte-black 1969 Ford Mustang.
I smiled and heading downstairs.
Killian was leaning against the hood. He wore a dark shirt with the sleeves pushed up past his elbows, exposing the tattoos that wrapped around his biceps. Faded black jeans.
He looked like a bad boy straight out of a movi
