1
Luna
“Jesus, Brendan, you can’tVenmoa stripper.”
The words slice straight through the bar’s low jazz. Three stools down, a beta freezes, his cheeks turning bright red. He stares straight at the row of gin bottles, lifting his beer for a long, agonizingly slow gulp.
I turn back to my drink and take a small sip, smirking over the rim at the dark mountain peaks beyond the bar.
In my experience, you absolutely can Venmo a stripper. But that usually requires a private show. Not that any of this matters tonight because—
A glass slides into my peripheral vision. The bartender, a beta sporting a patchy beard, sets it in front of me.
“Sorry, I didn’t order this,” I say, tilting my head in confusion.
“Consider it an offering,” a deep voice says from my left. “You look like you could use one.”
I turn my head and look up. Then I look up some more, because there’sa lotof him. Broad shoulders, the kind of arms that make the sleeves of his white shirt work for it. Collar open, one button past polite, tousled dark brown hair, and a glass ofwhiskey cradled casually in his hand. He looks like someone who’s never once worried about taking up too much space, and even with the scent-suppressing spray misting above the bar, there’s no mistaking he’s an alpha.
I eye the glass. It’s pale gold, with a tiny curl of orange peel floating on top. “What’s in it?”
“Elderflower, among other things.” he says, his hazel eyes reflecting the light from the back bar. “You should try it. Most people find elderflower delightful.”
I take him in from the shoes up, my eyes rising until they lock with his. He’s watching me watch him, a faint, unreadable shadow of amusement in his expression. “You look like someone who uses the worddelightfulwithout irony.”
He grins. It’s a problem. “I’m Ash.”
“Luna.” I rest my chin on my hand.
“Luna,” he repeats, the name rolling off his tongue. “After the moon, or—”
“Let me guess. Luna Lovegood from Harry Potter?”
He pauses, halting his whiskey glass midair. “I was actually going to say the cat in Sailor Moon.”
I blink, staring at him.Excuse me?A cat? “Well, at least you didn’t say a horse.”
He holds my gaze for three long seconds before his expression cracks, a huff of laughter escaping him.
“Oh my god.” I press a hand flat against my chest, feeling my pulse quicken. “You’re horrible.”
“And you’re easy to wind up.” The smile he gives me should be illegal in most jurisdictions.
I snatch a cocktail napkin off the bar and swat it against his knuckles. “You know, I’mthisclose to giving you a lecture on bar-room etiquette.”
“Well,” he starts, biting his lower lip. “Maybe I wouldn’t mind some… educating.”
A sudden wave of heat prickles up my neck.
Yesss, alpha,my omega says.We haven’t had sex in monthsss.
No, bad,I think back, my grip tightening on the stem of the glass.Stranger.
Although... he’s kind of seducing the shit out of me right now. God, biology’s a bitch.
Okay, breathe, Luna.What would my colleagues at the Lakeview Public Library do right now? Meredith would probably clutch her lanyard in horror and flee. Patricia would order a double and stay. And Deb? Well, Deb would already have her hand on his knee. Which, honestly, I wouldn’t blame her for. I mean, this man’s jawline looks sharp enough to slice right through a card catalog...
My eyes slide sideways, scanning the place. Because somewhere in this resort, there are people who believe I am here as Derek’s doting girlfriend. Derek, whose cousin, Mira, is getting married tomorrow. Derek, my ex, who begged me to pretend we were still together just for one weekend.For the family, Luna. The catering’s six hundred dollars a head and Mira already finalized the seating chart.
