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“The building has been here since 1981. But it was many things, including empty, before becoming the Iron Stag. James Murray bought it in 2009 and did some remodeling and cleaning up. Opened the Iron Stag that October.”
“What’s the significance of the name?”
“I really don’t know.”
“Interesting.” Cass nodded, sipped again, and looked at the Christmas tree this time.
“The tradition of the Christmas tree comes from Germany.”
He laughed as he flicked his gaze to her. “Yes.”
“Are you a trivia buff or a history nerd?” she asked him.
“Both?” Laughing as he swallowed, he choked down another sip.
But what a handsome man to be a nerd. Marlowe wondered if he was married. Not that it mattered. It wasn’t like she would ever see him again. But she was curious if he was married, if he had children. If so, he was probably one of those dads who had a trivia tidbit about everything.
“What do you do?” she asked him.
“I’m a professor,” he answered. “Private college.”
“History?”
“Mm.” He frowned. “I’ve taught history, but mostly I teach philosophy. I even taught a literature class a few years ago.”
“Wow.” She folded her arms over her chest, oddly attracted to him even more with each of his confessions. “Do you wear contacts?”
“No. Why?”
“Just envisioning you as a student. Wearing glasses. Piece of tape right here.” She plopped the tip of her index finger between her eyes.
“Nice,” he said, but his laugh sounded genuine. “I’m guessing you’re a reader.”
“That’s not hard to figure out.” She shrugged and held her arms out in front of her. “Harry Potter was my boyfriend when I was in school.”
She pointed at the lightning bolt near her elbow.
“I didn’t even notice that one.” He leaned a bit into the bar and touched the tattoo. “I mean, maybe if you’d put it on your forehead.”
Marlowe laughed and rolled her eyes. She was caught in a whirlwind of butterfly wings—he touched her. Cass has stroked his finger very lightly over her tattoo. And, he had noticed she was a reader, but not by her Harry Potter tattoo. Interesting. Which fandom had given her away? And what did that mean?
4
Cass
“ACOTAR.” He dragged the tip of his finger lightly over the spray of stars on her other arm and then rubbed his thumb over the quote every ACOTAR fan swooned over.
“What do you know about ACOTAR?”
“Only everything.” He drew his hand away and watched her with a smirk.
“Your students read them?”
“They do,” he answered with a nod, “but, I’ve read them all, too.”
“Seriously?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
