“Crab.”
“Ugh, gross. They always destroy crab soup here anyway.”
“Well here’s the problem.” As much as I might want to watch the show, I can’t just agree to go with him. “I’m not Kinsley anymore, I'm Alana.”
He raises his eyebrows. “And Alana doesn’t sit on couches?”
“No, Alana has rules for every action she does. Kinsley only had one.”
He snaps his fingers as it comes back to him. “Right, ‘be fiercely loyal and drink the blood of your enemies’, I remember.” He pauses, then whispers, leaning in and I catch a whiff of his aftershave, “Are you going to drink my blood?”
“If I was, I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell you.” I motion to the crowd, “In public.”
“And a hotel room is the perfect place to do that. Clearly, I’m in danger.” He’s joking and totally oblivious to the person I’ve evolved into. No, he still sees the nineteen-year-old me. I sort of miss her.
“Every action I do must check off at least two different reasons. Unfortunately, this offer only meets one requirement."
“So what are these rules?” He rubs his chin, “let me know what I’m working with.”
I take a quick breath and start counting on my fingers, so I don’t miss one. “Everything has to be done because it helps someone you love or it hurts someone you hate. There’s something to learn from it or it fixes a mistake. It makes you money or power, or it takes away money or power from someone who doesn’t deserve it.” I watch his expressions shift through different emotions like he is trying to understand each word. “The only rule that works is that I can do things for myself, and I kinda want to watch the show.”
“I see the smug satisfaction of being superior to others isn’t on the list.” He arches his brow.
“I guess that could fall under doing something for myself but that’s only one rule and I need two to go watch the show.”
Grae lifts his shoulder in a half shrug. “I guess if we can’t think of something else, then this is the end.”
It should be. There’re a million reasons why I should end this conversation now. He’s a client. It’s messy as hell. He doesn’t know who I am or what I’m capable of. But there’s a whisper in the back of my brain reminding me I’m tired of spending every night alone. And I do want to watch the show. Plus, I can still do what I need to do for Hadeon.
“There’s one more reason,” I whisper. “Time is finite.”
“And is there anything better than watching a fan show live, instead of waiting for the highlights to hit the internet?” His brows wiggle. “You get to watch it before it becomes a meme.”
“All true.” Fuck he’s so easy to talk to. It’s like slipping into an old pair of jeans that fit perfectly on your body but were stuck in the back of your closet for months. “Let’s go.”
His mouth turns into the biggest smile and my stomach flips as heat flares up and down my spine. Am I about to make the biggest mistake of my life? Maybe. But that’s a problem to deal with later.
CHAPTER 6
Grae
She agreed. I didn’t notice my hands were shaking until I put the key in the slot to get the elevator to my room. Stop it. I conquered this years ago though therapy, meds, love, acceptance and a hefty dose of desperate need to be a new person. Stupid dipshit Davin used to shake and whimper and puke. I’m not that guy anymore.
But she’s standing three feet away. I could reach out and touch her with no effort. It’s only in the reflection of the elevator door, I can see her whole dress, a tight corset top and a long black skirt with a high slit at the side. Clean, classic and stunning.
I can spend the evening with Alana and keep my impulses at bay. Grae isn’t the little bitch Davin was. By the time I step off the elevator, I’ve talked myself down from whatever cliff my psyche was about to jump off.
The hotel room is fine. Not the nicest I’ve ever been in but large enough that we’ll both have plenty of room. The suite has an office space slash living area with a sofa and a leather armchair. There’s a coffee table nestled in the middle of the space and a flat-screen TV mounted on the far wall. Space and comfort, it’s as perfect as I can make it.
“I can order room service if you want anything more than that tiny shot glass of soup.”
I give her the menu but keep my body as far away as possible. She flips through it and says, “I could go for a grilled cheese sandwich.”
“A lady with sophisticated taste.” I place the order and turn on the TV. While we wait for the preshow to start, she nestles into the couch. She kicks off her heels and tucks her legs under herself, trying to get comfortable in the long black evening gown.
“I’ve got track pants if you want to change,” I offer while loosening my tie and popping the top button of my shirt. But I stop from getting too comfortable. She’s here to watch the show and eat grilled cheese. Nothing’s going to happen.
“If they aren’t fuzzy pajamas, I’m not interested.” She smirks and plays on her phone while we wait.
