Page 19 of The Bleeding Hearts Club

“Nope.”

“Favorite color?”

“No idea.”

“Any type of identifying marks? What if they’re dead and you have to identify them seeing as you’re the last to speak to them?”

She glares for real this time. “That’s not how that works, Theo. If the person has identification, then next of kin is asked to confirm the identity of the body. If there is none, there are reports made of distinguishable marks or using medical records.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” I say.

“You didn’t ask a valid question.” Mina crosses her arms. Her weight shifts to one foot, leaving her hip to jut out from the slim opening of her dress. All of that soft, pale, unblemished skin.

Dumbass.

“Touché,” I chuckle. Her eyes keep scanning over the hoards of people occupying the hotel’s patio. I guess I can take some pity on her.

Mina, please don’t kill me.

“I had a good match up today, too,” I say nonchalantly while sipping my drink. Her eyes widen a fraction, a small frown quirking her lips.

Play it cool, Mina. You can’t be hurt when your also planning to spend the evening with a person you met today.

“Ooh, really? What’s her name?”

“No idea,” I say shrugging, hiding my smirk behind the drink in my hand.

Amusement lights up her face. “Know who you’re looking for?”

“No,” I lied.

“Favorite color?”

“Not a clue.”

She hums, sipping her wine. “You know what that sounds like to me?”

“No, what?”

Her golden eyes are lit with mirth. The flames of the fires around us dance in them. Mina is something else. If I’m some mythological monster that still exists in this realm, this girl has to be some ethereal goddess from another universe.

“Sounds like hypocrisy.”

I shrug. “Maybe. I didn’t get much of a chance to see her face or ask the millions of questions I asked you yesterday. I spoke to her in the blind date room. It was timed and through a phone.” I glanced at her, continuing, “We agreed to meet here because the time interrupted our conversation.”

Mina is stunned. If her blank expression, shifty eyes, and slack jaw didn’t tell me, it was definitely the thoughts screaming at me.

WHAT THE FUCK?! No. No, Theo? Really?

Mr. Room 9 with his sweet, endearing displays of affection is THEO?! The puppy with a mind of a 12 year old. No. Maybe its a coincidence. Maybe I’m overreacting.

Rude, I think, huffing. I am not a dog.

“I—uh—really? Um, my date and I agreed to meet here, too? Um, what room was your date in, if you, um, maybe don’t mind my asking?” She takes a huge gulp of her wine, draining the glass. She motions for the bartender to refill it, and I just watch her.

This girl is a mystery. She’s hot and cold—hey, Katy Perry—and can’t seem to figure out what she wants. There has to be something more to this. It can’t all fall on the fact she’s a hopeless romantic with her books and aversion to reality.

The bartender returns with another glass of wine. Mina takes it and takes another large drink. I clear my throat. “She was in room six.”