Just for a moment, I let myself exist without all those thoughts and realities and just breathed.
“That was quite a show earlier.”
I jerked at the voice brushing my ear, finding a stunning man far too close. Brown hair, midnight-dark eyes, and a smile that lingered just a little too long. Something about him tugged at my memory. The shape of his face, maybe, but I couldn’t place it.
His smile widened just enough to reveal the sharp gleam of fangs. Vampire.
Not saying a word, I shrugged and turned away. The universal signal: not interested.
Not a second later, he slipped onto the seat beside me like he’d always meant to be there. “I was just wondering what that guy did to deserve that kind of punishment.”
He leaned in close enough that the scent of sweet musk curled into my lungs. It was warm. Inviting. Dangerous.
I almost leaned in too before I caught myself. It took all my tipsy restraint to stay still instead of shrinking away or encouraging him.
“None of your business,” I said, turning away further.
“If you don’t like talking…” His voice followed me, low and amused. “How about a dance?”
What is wrong with this guy? Can he not take a hint?
I spun back toward him. “I don’t date supes, so it's best if you move along.”
That should’ve done it. It usually did… but he didn’t leave.
Instead, his fingers brushed the red-tipped ends of my hair—the same way Manshu had earlier. I braced for the wave of disgust, for my skin to crawl and my anger to rise, but it didn’t come, which somehow made it worse.
Don’t you dare like this, Olivia! He’s dangerous. A vampire. He will drain you dry.
My eyes lifted, and I was finally able to see this male in his full beauty. My breath caught, and my thighs pressed together. I wet my lips, wholeheartedly blaming it on the alcohol, the dry air, anything but the way he was looking at me.
“Who said anything about dating?” he said with a soft laugh.
Heat crept up my neck.
He leaned in again, his voice dropping just for me. “I was only hoping for a dance with a pretty girl. That's it.”
A disbelieving huff slipped out before I could stop it. “Yeah. Right,” I bit out, the sarcasm cutting through. Crossing my arms, I added, “That and my blood on tap like your own personal keg.”
This time, he gave a full belly laugh—warm, easy, completely unbothered—and the sound made me jolt.
Now, I was paying attention. Wild brown hair framed his face, carrying a careless, just-rolled-out-of-bed look that felt out of place for a supe. Most of them curated every detail, down to the designer labels and polished edges, always trying to outshine each other for the top spot.
And this guy? He looked like he’d woken up like this and couldn’t be bothered with fixing it. Matching that vibe was his casual t-shirt, jeans, and his easy smile. Somehow, it worked for him.
His smile spread wide—not sharp, or mocking, or meant to intimidate—but easy. Genuine. Like he was actually enjoying himself.
It was… almost infectious.
Leaning against the bar, a honey-brown strand falling into his face, I could even say that he almost looked like a normal guy. Casual clothes. Relaxed posture. Harmless. Everything he was putting out was oddly nonthreatening for a vampire.
I narrowed my eyes on him.What’s his game? His angle?
“What if I promise I won’t ask, demand, or coerce even a single drop of blood from you?” he said, lifting his right hand and putting the left over his heart.
Before I could stop myself, my eyes rolled skyward. “Sure. And I won’t need water to deal with this buzz later.”
I lifted my glass and took a pointed sip, hoping he’d take the hint.
