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“Beautiful,” I murmur, feeling dazed. I run my fingers through the length of her hair, gently brushing the few stray knots free. “So fucking beautiful.”
She bites her lip and looks away, bashful at the praise.
“You don’t mean that,” she whispers.
I hook a finger under her chin and make her look up at me. “I don’t say or do things I don’t mean, sweetheart.”
She gives me a long look, her fists tightening their hold on my jacket.
“I don’t do things like this,” she finally says. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”
“What do you mean?” I whisper, pushing back to stare into her ocean blues.
“I don’t just let strangers kiss me. I just … I didn’t expect to like it so much.”
Then what does that make me? I think to myself.
Instead, I smile at her. “I don’t kiss strangers either.”
It occurs to me then that I should offer to take her home, that I should use the moment to finally take her away somewhere safe and make her mine. But I’m a hunter, not a caveman. I need to show her that I’m not going to hurt her, that coming with me is not just the only option, but the very best option.
My words stay suspended between us as we watch each other, the connection between us thrumming with tension and want. It’s hard to remember that we’re standing at the center of a quiet street in the middle of a bustling city.
But then behind me, I catch the sound of approaching footsteps.
My senses sharpen instantly and my body tenses reflexively. I turn to see someone, a man in a chef’s coat and pants, smoking a cigarette with a backpack over his shoulder. Some cook headed home after a shift most likely, but he seems familiar. I instinctively put myself between him and Renee.
When the man finally looks up at us as he passes by, he recognizes me. He stops dead in his tracks, the streetlamp light making his now face look sallow as the blood drains from it. I realize why I recognize him. “Mr. Bianchi—”
“Keep walking, Tony,” I warn, all-to-conscious of the girl standing behind me. I try to sound non-threatening, but I know that most find me fucking terrifying even when I try to be casual. Comes with the territory my reputation has long given me.
“Y-Yes, sir. Have a good night, sir.” he stammers as he scrambles down the street.
As soon as he’s out of sight, I let out a long sigh. That was not the impression I wanted to leave Renee with, but it’s too late now.
When I turn to look at her, she has a strange look on her face. It’s not fear, but it’s not the clear want she’d had just moments ago either. That little interruption must’ve snapped her back to reality, replacing the desire with disease.
“I need to go,” she says softly.
I force away the frustration that creeps up at her words. She’s not wrong. While I’m going to follow her wherever she goes—likely back to that shithole motel, given the late hour—she still needs to do what she needs to do. The moment is over and all I can do is let her go.
I brush a strand of hair from her face. “The number printed in the top corner of the check is my personal cell phone number. Call me when you get home, alright?”
She nods and says a quiet “Thank you” as she walks back to the sidewalk. Just before she disappears around the corner, she glances at her shoulder over me and gives me a soft smile that makes my heart ache.
As soon as she’s gone, I count to twenty and climb into my car, turning the key in the ignition to start it. While this interaction wasn’t what I thought it would be, I certainly don’t regret any of it. She was never in any danger of getting hit by a car by carelessly crossing the street, but I’m glad I used the chance to speak with her regardless.
Now she’ll have a bit more money to ease her worries, and she’ll still have me on her tail, whether she realizes it or not.
Chapter Four
Renee
I stare at the check as I sit on the bed in my motel room, questioning whether or not to call the stranger from earlier.
He’s not really a stranger though, is he? We kissed. And like I told him, I’m not really the kind of person to kiss random strangers.
Or maybe I am. That was my first kiss, so maybe he’s just the first stranger of many. I just don’t want to kiss anyone else but him …
