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“Where do you have in mind?” The words escape me, betraying me.
I can’t believe I said that. I’m encouraging whatever he is trying to do. But this time, I’m different. I don’t fall for fairy-tale bullshit or sexy smirks promising forever.
“Let’s go,” he says, turning around.
Casting a glance back at the table, I catch Charles's worried expression, which does nothing to ease my nerves.
I follow Valen, noting that he ignores all the appreciative glances from the girls who pass by. The head nods from the guys who know him. He’s like a god walking across campus. I also don’t miss the glances everyone gives me when they notice me following Valen to the parking lot. Like it’s normal for a freshman to follow the most popular guy on campus. It’s like they know something I don’t. A huge secret I’m not privy to.
The lights flash from a blacked-out Porsche. He walks to the passenger side, opens the door, and gestures for me to get in with the palm of his hand.
I cross my arms over my waist.
“I’m not going to bite, Melody.” His grin reveals a hint of darkness that sends a shiver down my spine. “Unless you want me to.” I freeze, and he laughs. “I’m kidding.” I step close to get in but pause when he leans in and says, “You should have seen your face. It looked like that is exactly what you needed.”
“And what is that?” I say defiantly.
His nose barely inches from my ear, his breath a warm caress on the skin beneath my hair. A shiver mixed with heat and a pulse of desire that contradicts my rational mind slices through me.
“For me to remind you that you still exist, you can still bleed.”
“You’re crazy.”
As I slide into the passenger seat, he pulls back, a shadow of amusement flickering in his eyes. “So I have been told.” And he closes the door with a definitive thud.
We walk into an upscale steak and seafood restaurant on the outskirts of a designer strip mall called Legion. The server walks up, and he orders me a glass of white wine and himself a glass of water. I’m about to tell him I’m underage, but he winks at me and orders two lobsters.
When the server leaves, he smiles. “It’s our little secret.”
“What if I don’t drink wine?”
My rebellious days are over, but I have. When I was fifteen, I tried every bottle of alcohol stashed in the house. Wine, liquor, and beer. I wanted to know what I liked so I wouldn't look like a prude when a guy asked me out to a party. Now, I stay away from anything involving alcohol. I know we’re in a restaurant, and I don’t think they drug their customers to fuck them in the back.
“What do you drink?”
“I drink what tastes good.”
“You’ll like what I ordered you.”
“Don’t get so cocky. I might not like what you give me,” I shot back.
“You would have to try it first.”
“I think I’m full.”
“Satiety is ephemeral.”
I lean back, trying to cool my inner turmoil. He’s intense.
I take in the opulence of the restaurant. The restaurant adorns each table with pristine white tablecloths, the soft glow of faux candles flickering in their centers against the contrast of elegant black cloth napkins.
An array of blown glass fixtures crowns the bar above, their intricate designs casting a kaleidoscope of light across the polished surfaces. The waitstaff, in their crisp white shirts and black slacks, move with a practiced grace. The men in tailored suits, their conversations low and self-assured; the women in designer dresses, diamonds sparkling at their ears with every tilt of their heads. The air is thick with the scent of gourmet cuisine and the subtle undercurrent of affluence.
For me, this level of sophistication is uncharted territory. My parents considered a night out at Outback or Olive Garden the pinnacle of dining—places where our birthdays and graduations were celebrated, where family stories filled the air. Except for my graduation. I didn’t get a graduation dinner. I was too busy finding a place to live when I left three weeks before graduation.
“What’s on your mind?” he inquires, his gaze piercing as if he’s trying to unravel the threads of my thoughts.
“I’m thinking this place seems...extravagant to just give me my assignment.”
