“Can I know who’s calling?”
He laughed again.
“Shit, sorry. Yeah, that was rude of me. Hemlock, at your service.”
Oh. Oh, fuck. Hemlock was another one of my villain crushes. He wasfine. Dark-brown hair, forest-green eyes, five-foot-ten, and built like an F1 driver—lean but strong. He wasn’t quite as deadly as Avalanche, but he got his name because he could turn water into poison.
His victim pool was mostly stuck-up rich people. I also heard rumours that he worked with The Weaver on occasion. He’d help incapacitate the victims so he could do his whole vein thing.
“Oh… Um… Cool.”
Lame. So lame. You did fine before but now that you know who it is you can’t form thoughts? Stupid.
“So, how does this work? Do I give you my number now or do we have a face-to-face so you can vet me?”
“Up to you. I haven’t done a face-to-face with anyone except for The Weaver. Everyone else kinda broke into my office at the hospital to drop off their info. I’d prefer a face-to-face though. I’m tired of getting new locks.”
“When and where? You name it and I’ll be there.”
“You know the bar Crossroads on 44th? Say 6?”
“Works for me! I’ll see you there.”
I was waitingby the bar, fiddling with the sleeves of my blouse. I couldn’t decide if I wanted them rolled up or not. I felt overdressed. I thought the black jeans with a light-blue button-up would be fine but now I was worried I looked like I was trying too hard.
Hemlock was asupervillain; he was coming here to give me his information for the kids. It’s not like this was a date. But he was so nice to look at—and I was fucking delusional.
I glanced around to see if anyone was looking at me before working my buttons open. I was wearing a white tank top so I was hoping the tank top, the open button-up with the sleeves rolled up and the jeans would look like less try-hard.
Once I was satisfied with that, I flagged down a bartender. The pretty one from the other day wasn’t working, which was kind of a relief because I hadn’t called her. I was worried I’d have to explain that I was bi, but women scared me. Not that men didn’t scare me, it’s just…they were scary in a familiar way. I knew what to do with a man, I had no idea what to do with a woman and that (to me) was embarrassing. How are you twenty-six and don’t know how to please someone with the same anatomy as you? Because society said I should be with a man and by the time I realized I might like something else it was too late to learn (in my mind).
“Hey, what can I get you?” the bartender asked.
“Something fruity.”
“You got it,” he said with a smile as he went to work.
“Hey.”
I hadn’t noticed him walking up, but I turned to find Hemlock leaning on the wall next to the bar. He was wearing a black t-shirt, blue and black flannel hoody, and dark-blue jeans. He wore an easy smile on his face as his eyes trailed over me. It was hard not to squirm under his gaze.
“Hi.”
His grin grew. “I wasn’t sure if you’d recognize me. I don’t have the cult following guys like Avalanche do.”
I pressed my lips together to keep from blurting out something stupid. Something like: he did in fact have a huge cult following. The amount of internet fan fiction I’d read about him was honestly unhealthy.
“I don’t think that’s true.”
He raised an eyebrow. “No? Why not?”
Heat rushed to my cheeks. “I— So, um, can I buy you a drink or something?”
He laughed. “I was going to offer you a drink.”
“No offence, but I don’t know that accepting a drink from you is a smart life decision.”
“I wasn’t sure why Av wouldn’t give up your number but I get it now. I wouldn’t want to share you either.” His grin was wicked.
