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ChapterFive
Ispent all day wondering what Alek and I would be doing tonight. Another nightclub? More dancing? Drinks? Something entirely different?
After finishing a new book and cleaning my entire kitchen, I was antsy. I practically tore a hole in my kitchen floor from pacing back and forth before Alek texted me that he was waiting outside.
To avoid any questions from my mother, I snuck out the window again. If she ever put a camera out there, I would be totally screwed. Lucky for me, though, she hadn’t thought of that yet. As long as she didn’t come home from her work trip early, I would be safe.
Alek waited for me as I walked up. It was a little past eight and the sun had set, but I could still see him leaned against his matte black car with arms crossed. “Ready?”
“Ready for what? Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
“Nope,” he said with a smile. He opened the passenger side door and waited for me to get in. “You’ll find out when we get there.”
I rolled my eyes and tried to hide my bubbling excitement as I climbed inside.
Alek shut the door behind me before walking back to the driver's seat. “We have a bit of a drive, so I figured we could discuss what type of things you’ve been wanting to experience. What haven’t you done before?”
I shrugged. “Everything, honestly.”
Alek glanced over at me, his brow creasing. “What do you mean?”
“I haven’t done much of anything. I rarely leave the apartment. I took college online. My mother monitors my apartment with a camera pointed directly at the front door. So any suggestions you have, it’s likely that I haven’t experienced it.”
He shook his head and let out a low whistle. “Well, it’s a good thing you met me, then. We’ll start with the basics.”
I snorted. “Basics?”
“Sure. We’ll start with all of the stupid, reckless things everyone did in high school. The rites of passage that you missed out on.”
“Really?” I questioned. “Like what? I can’t imagine a food fight in the cafeteria is on the list.”
Alek laughed. “No, what I have planned for us is much more fun than a food fight.”
I relaxed into his passenger seat. “I have to say, I can't picture you throwing spaghetti at anyone.”
He lifted his chin and surveyed his reflection in the rearview mirror. “No? Is it because I’m too polite and courteous?”
“Why do I have a feeling you’re not as polite and courteous to everyone else you meet?”
When he smiled this time, my stomach flipped. “I’m as nice as I need to be. Us demons have a reputation to uphold, anyway.”
“Is that what the tattoos are for, too?”
He glanced at me again as we drove out of the city. “Some are for looks. Others have deeper meaning.”
I know I shouldn’t have pushed, but I did anyway. “Like what?” I asked.
“You sure do ask a lot of questions.”
I shifted in the seat. “I have years of information gathering to catch up on. Can you blame me?”
“No,” he said after a few seconds. “I guess I can’t.”
“So? Your tattoos?” I pressed.
Something dark washed over his face. “That’s a conversation for another time.”
I nodded, picking up on his hint. We drove in silence for the next thirty minutes. I didn’t prod him with any more personal questions for the rest of the ride, although my brain erupted with them as the car rolled to a stop.
