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Whoever this girl is, I want to see more of her.
Her eyes are like someone captured a summer storm. Shadows live in her too. Dark ones.
Aden heads to the bar with the bag of limes he went out for, but he doesn’t take his eyes off her as he goes.
Not once.
She can’t see me, but that isn’t enough to turn her gaze elsewhere. It’s as if I pull at her as much as she pulls at me.
Who the fuck are you?
Aden returns from the bar and calls her. I spot the exact moment she realizes he’s standing closer to her than he was before. A half step away, eyes wide, chest working hard. This isn’t someone just being startled, this is someone afraid.
Terrified.
Damaged, then, maybe even broken.
Just like the rest of us.
My eyes track her as Aden leads her away. The longer he speaks, the quieter the panic in her eyes. But she never closes the space between them. If he has to dodge a table that puts him a step closer to her, she moves a step away.
Definitely damaged.
Aden has found another bird to save.
Long after I’ve lost sight of her, a familiar scent approaches. Fresh lemon, clean, and prickling with annoyance. Looks like Dariel has finally noticed the dancer.
Just before he arrives, I realize the boredom is gone.
Now there’s a flutter of something unfamiliar in my gut. A small thing that feels a little like excitement.
“Kade, I’ve told you about bringing girls to the bar.” His voice is low, measured, and controlled, but that’s never-loses-his-shit Dariel Desidario for you. It takes a lot to push him over the edge, but I’ve always been able to do it quicker than most.
I call it a skill. Aden calls it a death wish.
The girl keeps dancing as I turn to the towering dark-haired man in an all-black shirt and pants. I take in the slow-building fury in his deep green eyes, the clenched fists, the energy crackling around him, and the faintest hint of his wolf in his eyes. All the signs I was hoping my little dancer would provoke.
He’s ready for a fight, and it would be a good one. They always are.
Fights with Dariel have always silenced the boredom. At least for a little while.
I lift my glass to my lips and take a sip. “It’s just a girl.”
“This isn’t that kind of bar, Kade.”
I eye the woman with something I hope resembles fascination. “Well, it should be.”
He takes a step closer, lowering his voice, though he needn’t have bothered. The Cerberus never truly gets going until ten, sometimes eleven, and we still have an hour before we’d have to worry about anyone overhearing us. Even then, the odds are slim. Now if there were a wolf in the bar…
“Kade—”
“Anyway, Aden brought a girl in,” I interrupt, keeping my eyes on the dancer’s thong. “Dressed in a hospital gown, if you can believe it. And he took her upstairs. We all know how much Aden likes saving things, so maybe he’s acting out a fantasy of his own on Greg’s bed.”
I glance at him with a smile curving my lips, just to gauge his response. He should know the person most likely to take a girl upstairs to fuck her on our bar manager’s bed is me. But Dariel hasn’t exactly been thinking straight of late.
His lips are tight, but I catch the surprise flicker in his eyes before it fades. “Aden wouldn’t.”
“Ask at the bar. Or better yet, have a peek at that security system you’re so fond of.”
