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Prologue
EVA
I drink a sip of my too strong cocktail with a grimace, and keep staring at the cupcake in front of me like it holds all the secrets in the world. Like it can tell me what I did wrong to be sitting alone in this bar chair. On my eighteenth birthday. Without a friend or a parent to congratulate me on becoming an adult.
Cheers and applause from a booth get my attention, and I turn my head to look. I see a girl around my age sitting in front of a cake and blowing out candles while those around her sing the Happy Birthday song at the top of their lungs drowning out the music playing in the bar.
I don't see a familiar face in that group. Then, I notice the logo on their sweatshirts and t-shirts, The University of Puget Sound. They must be from Tacoma and probably here for the camping sites in the mountain our little town is famous for.
I listen to their laughter and chatter. They sound so carefree, so happy.
That’s how I should be spending my birthday, too. Being happy and carefree.
With a sigh, I turn to stare at my cupcake.
“Is it poisonous?” someone next to me asks.
I turn my head to look at the source of the question to understand if it's directed at me. He looks really young, but I can't really guess his age. He has an edge that gives him a rugged and more mature look. The sharp jawline, thick eyebrows, straight nose, and high cheekbones scream all-male power. And it makes my heart beat faster. The only thing that doesn't suit that sharp look, is the dimple on his chin. That just makes him even more ravishing. Like this strong guy has a boyish side to him, and he looks at me with an amused expression.
Remembering his question, I frown, “Wait, what?”
“You’ve been staring at it for the last thirty minutes,” he tells me.
A smile tickles my lips.
“So should I presume you've been staring at me for the last thirty minutes?” I ask him in response. My voice is, to my surprise, almost flirtatious.
His lips turn up in the corners with a very sexy smirk, but his response is innocent to the contrary. “I've been watching you watch that cupcake, trying to understand what's so interesting about it.”
I sigh. “I… I’m just trying to decide if I should eat it,” I say with a shrug.
He frowns with confusion. “Of course you should eat it… if you’re not too concerned about the calories.”
I snort at that. “It’s my birthday cake,” I blurt out. I don’t even know why I said that.
“Happy birthday,” he says, lifting his glass with amber liquid in it toward me in a toast.
Clinking our glasses, I smile shyly.
“So… how old are you?”
“Eighteen.”
His eyes widen, and I realize how beautiful his eyes are. Big and blue. They're like fire, if only the ice could burn as bright. I remember seeing blue fire on the internet once, his eyes remind me of that. My eyes are blue too, but when I look in the mirror they're like a piece of glass, dull without a spark, but his eyes… they're hypnotizing.
“No shit,” he says, breaking of my ogling.
I quirk my eyebrow at him.
His eyes roam over my body slowly, deliberately, and I use this opportunity to do the same. The black t-shirt he’s wearing stretches over his chest. I spot the leather jacket behind the bar chair. His muscular arms are covered with tattoos. I have strange urge to find out how far that ink goes on his body.
I only stop checking him out when he finally says with a deep voice, “You don’t look eighteen.”
My back straightens, and his eyes fall to my breasts. His Adam's apple moves slowly, and he licks his lips before taking a sip from his glass. I gulp down my own drink to ease the dryness in my mouth.
“How old do I look?” I ask. My voice coming out huskier.
His gaze makes a quick run over my body once more before he takes his eyes off me and focuses on the drink in my hand which I’ve long forgotten.
“Well, since you clearly drink alcohol, I would say at least twenty-one.”
I make a shocked face. “Are you telling me I look old?”
