“Threedays, and lightweight? I just drank a bottle of whiskey and I’m still standing.”
“Good to know you're keeping tabs on me, and I knowexactlyhow much you drank. I paid for it."
"I'm not keeping tabs. And Darius wanted to buy me a drink."
“Yet he didn’t.” Ronan shrugged. “So who’s the better date? My money’s on me.”
“You—" I pushed against his chest. “—are aterribledate. You got me all liquored up, didn’t even feed me.”
Ronan jerked his head toward the booth behind us, where a long-haired vampire greedily sucked from the neck of his victim—a willing one, this time. “At least I didn’t feedonyou.”
“That a warning?" I pulled back and met his eyes. The booze had obliterated my guard, and my dealings with Darius had left me riled up in more ways than one. Somewhere in the back of my mind, Good Gray—the voice of reason—shouted a warning, but Bad Gray bitchslapped her. Bad Gray was tired of watching every step, every move, every word, especially around Ronan.
Seven years ago, he’d found me on my first night in the Bay, a total mess. Calla had always warned me to steer clear of demons, but Ronan was different. Memories of my first month in the Bay were still a little fuzzy, but I knew that he took care of me. Patched me up, fed me, and gave me a place to crash. I cooked and kept the place clean, and sometimes I kept him company during his long overnight shifts on the docks, loading and unloading boats for Waldrich. A few months in, the boss finally gave me a job of my own making deliveries. Not long after that, I’d met Sophie, and we’d found a place together, finally moving me off of Ronan’s pull-out couch.
Those first few years had been so easy between us; just like with Sophie, it’d felt as if Ronan and I had known each other forever.
But in the last several months, something had shifted.
Now, being with him was like playing a constant game of tug-of-war, our friendship solidly on one side, with something else—something hot and primal and infinitely more dangerous—on the other. It was clear both of us felt the pull, and we’d been doing our best to keep our feet planted firmly on the friendship side.
But on nights like tonight, when I’d had a few drinks and he was looking at me like all I’d have to do is say the word and he’d have me pinned to the wall, my legs wrapped around his hips, his mouth on my neck… damn. Bad Gray wanted to see just how hard she could tug that rope.
I slid my hands up over his shoulders, aching to slide my fingers into that mop of silky, light-brown hair. He kept it short on the sides, long on top, perfectly tousled and begging to be touched.
The heat between us crested to dangerous levels.
“What are youdoing, Gray?” His voice was a low rumble in my ear, but he didn't pull away. He slid his hands down my back, over the curves of my waist, down to my hips. His fingers dug hard into my flesh, even as his thumb ghosted across the bare skin peeking out beneath the hem of my shirt.
“Nothing," I said innocently. “What areyoudoing, Ronan?”
God, I love the way he touches me.
Ronan let out a sigh. His lips were so close to my mouth I could taste the whiskey on his warm breath.
I swayed a little on my feet, pressing closer to Ronan’s rock-hard body. He was shorter than Darius, but solid and warm, a man who’d have no trouble holding me down.
And I was pretty sure he already had a hold on my heart.
“Ronan?” I dug my fingers into his shoulders, willing myself to be strong. To be brave. “I think… I think I’m in—”
“I think you’re drunk,” he said plainly. “And as your friend, I’m going to spare you the future embarrassment of whatever it is you’re about to say.”
He glared at me, his eyes still hot with desire. After a beat, he jerked his head toward the elevator, then released me, stalking out ahead.
The crowd of vampires entering the club parted to let him pass.
My body felt his absence immediately, and I shivered.
Behind me, Darius laughed, deep and silky. “I guess that didn’t go as planned.”
I huffed out a sigh. Rejection was one thing. Rejection in front of an audience was a whole ’nother level of mortification.
“Have a lovely evening, Miss Desario,” he said. “I'll be in touch."
“Touchyourself, vampire.” Smirking, I turned away from him and pushed my way through the crowded bar to the elevator, riding it up to the street level alone.
Ronan and his devastating scowl were waiting for me outside.
