I slid my jacket off my shoulder, revealing my most sexy but elegant dress. It was off-shoulder, long sleeved, burgundy velvet, slim fit to my waist, flowy to my mid-thigh. He blew out a breath.
“Wow.”
I laughed. “Speechless? Excellent, this will make a great environment for reading.”
That was a lie. The lighting in here was low to set a romantic atmosphere. Unless we were sitting next to a fireplace, I’d have a hard time getting enough light not to strain my eyes.
He chuckled. “Not even going to give me a chance, eh?”
I shrugged. “I’ll consider a chance after a drink.”
“Well then, follow me.”
He turned to the bar area and led me to the back wall. His coat was draped over one of four seats at a table right next to the fireplace. There was already a pitcher of red sangria with a glass across from his coat. He set me up with my back to the fireplace. I almost smiled.
“Cozy.”
“I thought it would make for a good reading spot.” He grinned, pulling my chair out. “If you decided against the chance.”
“The odds may be leaning in your favour.” I draped my coat over one of the empty chairs and placed my purse on the seat. “Maybe.”
“I can work with maybe.”
16
THE VILLAIN
I didn’t knowwhat I was thinking when I sent her those flowers. That Angry Eyeballs didn’t deserve the smile she wore when he sent her that terrible pink and purple display? That she deserved a bouquet with thought behind it? That maybe if I sent her favourite colours, she would cancel her date? That she’d be curious enough to investigate a bit? In truth, I hadn’t been thinking. I’d been drinking. A lot. And calling Violet after she received my bouquet was extra stupid.
The fact that I eat?—
I took another swig from my fifth bottle of rum—being superhuman had its perks.
I was so stupid—torturing myself and pacing a hole through the floor of my apartment while my shadows gave me second by second reports of her date. Every laugh, every smile, every brush of their hands.
I didn’t want to know. After ten minutes, I was ready to drink myself to sleep but my stupid shadows had a mind of their own. They kept coming back and playing out scenes long after I’d given up.
Her dress prompted bottle number three.
And hearing her banter with him? Bottle number four.
They just left the restaurant—the most expensive steakhouse in the city like he was some kind of try-hard, like it didn’t cost him three days’ pay—and she was letting him walk her home. Would he weasel his way into her apartment? Onto her couch? Into her bed?
Another swig.
How much of a loser was I willing to be? Would I continue to sit here and watch my rogue shadows even after she brought him inside?Ifshe brought him inside.
Why wouldn’t she? The egotistical asshole from that night at karaoke was nowhere to be found. He’d been charming, attentive, and witty their whole date, spending three and a half fucking hours chatting, laughing, drinking.
Another swig.
I was debating whether or not I should just go on a freezing rampage so my shadows wouldn’t be able to come back with a scene I didn’t want to see. I was leaning more toward yes when Violet’s favourite song filled the empty room. Her ringtone.
I tripped over myself as I stumbled to the phone. I let it go about ten seconds longer—trying to sober myself up before I answered.
“Hello?” Did I sound drunk? God, I hoped not.
“Hey.”
