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There’s always been a flirtatious edge to our interactions, but it’s never gone further than soft conversations in dimly lit clubs, a dance or two, nothing like this. I’ve never beenalonewith him, and as the elevator carries us skyward, I can’t help but wonder if all of this was a mistake.

But there’s no more time to think about it, not as the elevator glides to a stop at the very top floor.

A soft ding announces our arrival. The doors open, and as we step into the small vestibule between us and the rooftop, Casimir’s hand ghosts along my wrist.

“Ophelia. If you’re not—”

“I am.” Determination is a stubborn, unerring force in the center of my chest.

I meet his eyes, and there it is again, the feeling that’s bigger than all the warnings.

Attraction, maybe, but I’ve never felt so viscerally drawn to someone before. I’ve never felt this kind of whole-body wanting, enough to override all my better senses.

The phantom press of Casimir’s fingers drops to lace with mine, grasping lightly as he swings open the rooftop door to let us out into the night.

I gasp at the view. The whole city spreads out below, lights sparkling like so many stars against the darkness, casting us both in a breathless golden glow.

Casimir leads me right to the edge, holding a hand at my back as I lean over and look down, stomach swooping at the wonder of the city below.

When I tear my gaze away from that panorama, he’s right there. Waiting, watching, crimson eyes soft and searching as he tucks a stray curl behind my ear.

“Tell me something about yourself. Something I don’t already know.”

I arch a brow. “Whatdoyou know about me?”

Casimir’s smile is sweet sin. “I know how very beautiful you are, and how delectable your scent is. I know you favor red wine over white, though you’ve also had a whiskey sour in hand two of the times we’ve spoken. I know the way your body moves against mine on a dance floor, and I know you’ve got a delicious little freckle on your neck I’d like to get a taste of someday.”

My heart hammers in my chest and my throat feels light and fluttery where his eyes find that freckle for a moment before they meet mine once more.

“But I don’t knowyou, sweet Ophelia, and I would very much like to.”

“There’s not much to know.”

“I doubt that entirely.”

He leans closer, and I can’t stop myself from doing the same, skin tingling with a cascade of starlight when he rests a hand on my hip.

What can I tell him? Is there anything about me that would hold even the slightest flicker of interest for him?

Oh, let’s see. I’m in my fifth year of college and have at least two semesters until I graduate since it took me so long to get my shit together and settle on a major. I live in a tiny two-bedroom apartment with my sister. I’ve watched the entirety of The Office at least six times over.

I’m normal. So achingly normal. Not a single thing special about me. Not like you, not like Cleo or Samuel or any of the dozens of paranormal folk I’ve met over the years.

I’m human. Just human. Just… Ophelia.

“I guess I could tell you I—”

My words cut off at the sound of the door behind us opening, at heavy footsteps and a pair of low, urgent voices. My heartjumps into my throat when I turn and see who those voices belong to.

Marcus steps out of the shadows, pulling a familiar human woman along with him. He’s got his arm around her waist, his face nuzzled into her neck, and it’s only Cassandra’s startled gasp that clues him into the fact that they’re not alone up here.

He pulls away, and her eyes go wide when she spots Casimir.

“I’m just gonna…” Cassandra murmurs, meeting my eye with another pulse of recognition and dismay. “I’m gonna head back down.”

She gives Marcus’s hand a tug, urging him to come, too, but Marcus doesn’t budge.

After a couple more seconds of that struggle, Cassandra gives up. She throws Marcus one more glance before her worried eyes land on me, but I don’t have time to interpret that look as she turns away and heads back inside the building.