“You two know each other?” His brow raises in speculation.
“Uh…” trying to gather myself, but failing, I stumble over my words while attempting to explain.
“HOLY SHIT!” Vix interrupts, and we all whip our attention in her direction.
I know that look, that’s theI just had an epiphanylook, and I close my eyes, bracing for the impact. Because if Vix is anything, she is blunt when she realizes something.
“He’s the one from the elevator you were talking about, isn’t he?”
Opening my eyes, I glare at her, and she just smirks and shrugs.
“Talking about me, huh?” Looking back at him, Zayne’s eyes brighten as a sly grin appears.
“Elevator, what elevator?” This is all still clearly lost on Knox as he looks between all three of us.
“Awww, poor Knoxie, always in the dark,” Vix gloats as she wipes down the bar.
“We’ve crossed paths before,” Zayne states, trying to explain, but never breaking the connection.
“Oookay, then,” Knox says, still trying to understand what’s happening.
I can’t blame him; I’m still trying to figure out how the hell my mysterious man from the elevator is here and if he’s... dare I say, flirting with me? Fighting my demons of insecurity, I try to give myself a mental pep talk.
Play it cool, Myssa, you got this, and this isn’t awkward at all.
But the flutter in my belly is saying otherwise as I just sit there, staring like a dopey-eyed schoolgirl.
Zayne is the first to break the staring contest. Blinking as if he was in the same trance I was, he looks back at Knox.
“Let's go upstairs and talk.” He nods up at the balcony.
“Yeah, let’s,” Knox agrees, glaring at Vix, who again just laughs, shaking her head.
I slide off the stool and slowly follow them.
He is their boss. He is their boss; I chant in my head. That’s the only idiotic sentence I can muster on repeat. And what the hell is going on with my body? I have never reacted to someone this intensely.I feel like something within me has awoken, a yearning, the urge to touch him, feel him holding me, kissing me, fucking me. Being near him again causes goosebumps to break outb in waves across my body. For fuck’s sake, is that sweat I feel on my back? I waft the neckline of my shirt, trying to fan some air inside. I would tell myself to get a grip, but we are way past that—now, I’m just flailing around for a life raft.
Chapter 17
Zayne
Keeping my composure, I lead the way up the stairs. I’ve tried to prepare myself all day for this moment. The minute she turned around and saw it was me, the reality around us faded away. I’d felt her without even touching her. Her emotions bled into me, and I fed on them like a starving vampire. She owns me without even lifting a finger, managing to burrow into the deepest parts of my emptiness, making me feel more alive than I have in months.
“So, an elevator, huh? Small world!” Knox attempts to break the silence as we walk to the staircase leading to my office.
“Yeah,” is all I can muster as we begin to climb.
This battle between my head and my heart, which is telling me to conquer and make her mine, is not helping with the self-control I’m trying so hard to maintain. The logical side of my brain keeps repeating that saving Aetheriem, and potentially our world, is top priority.
Unpacking what this is between us is a risk we cannot take. She needs to be aware of what is happening, and she needs to process her new reality. For that reason alone, my brain isbegging me to enforce the boundary. But my heart is desperate to feel her soft skin against my fingertips again. Mytarnished soul wants to nestle up to hers and find the peace it so desperately craves.
Opening the door, I invite them both in, and Myssa slowly moves around the room. It’s nothing special. Multiple camera feeds showing different angles of the club are displayed on monitors attached to the wall on the left. My antique mahogany desk sits in the middle, the dark stain giving it a gothic vibe, matching the aesthetic of the club. A crimson glow fills the room, illuminating its features. She stands by the opposite wall; my concert memorabilia collection clearly having grabbed her attention. Signed posters with ticket stubs from my adventures meticulously hang in frames above the mini fridge and filing cabinet. Groups like Skinny Puppy, KMFDM, Ministry, and Bauhaus, to name a few.
I stand adjacent to her, observing her silhouette as she examines each one. I find her curiosity enchanting as she studies the artwork. I can’t help but wonder: is this what it feels like? Finding your true soulmate? I have contemplated this question for weeks now. Now that we know she is an Original, can she be mine and I hers?
As challenging as it is, my head wins, and I lock these thoughts and questions away, putting on the best passive face I can muster.
“Quite the collection you have, and all signed. I have to admit, I’m envious.” She smiles as our eyes meet briefly before she goes back to examine them. Using this as an excuse to get closer to her, I close the gap, feeling the heat of her skin radiate against my own. My hand brushes against hers briefly, and the shock ignites me. Quick pulses thrum through me for a split second.
