Page 2

He grins, showing off dimples that make him even more strikingly handsome. "Well, you certainly know how to make an entrance." His voice is smooth, with a hint of amusement that makes my heart flutter. The way he looks at me, as if I'm the only person in the room, makes my heart pound erratically and I don’t know if I like it or not. I can feel the intensity of his gaze, and it stirs something inside me.

I laugh again, this time more at ease despite my racing heart. "Great first impression, right?" My voice carries a playful tone, though I can feel the butterflies in my stomach. His grin widens, and I can’t help but feel a strange comfort in his presence. It’s as if his confidence is contagious, and for a moment, I forget all the reasons I should be wary.

"Unforgettable," he says, and there's something in his tone that makes me feel like he means it. His voice is low, almost reverent, and it makes my core clench.

We finish cleaning up the mess together, our movements oddly synchronized. When he stands up, he extends his hand to help me to my feet. His grip is firm yet gentle, and I notice how his touch lingers just a moment longer than necessary. It’s reassuring, almost protective, and I find myself reluctant to let go.

"I'm Raj," he says once I'm on my feet again,his voice carrying a warmth that wraps around me like a comforting blanket.

"Felicity," I reply, my voice soft as I meet his gaze. My hand still tingles from his touch, a sensation that seems to seep into my very core. I can't help but wonder if he feels it too.

"I’ll remember that," he says with a wink, his eyes twinkling with mischief, before turning back toward the stage. As he walks away, I can't help but watch the confident sway in his stride, feeling curiosity bubbling up inside me.

I watch him go, feeling both relief and excitement swirl inside me. Maybe this night won’t be so bad after all. As Raj disappears into the crowd, I linger on the warmth of his hand in mine. My heart flutters, a sensation I haven't felt in a long time. For once, the shadows of my past seem a little less daunting, and the laughter from the stage a little more inviting.

CHAPTER TWO

Raj

I step out into the spotlight, the familiar hum of anticipation buzzing through the packed room. The stage lights are blinding, but I’ve grown used to them. They’re part of the game, a necessary distraction. But tonight, there's something else gnawing at my focus. Or rather, someone.

Felicity. The new server who ran into me backstage, her drink spilling all over my shirt. Awkward? Sure. But it was also electric. There was something about her that snagged my attention and refused to let go.

"Hey folks, how's everyone doing tonight?" I start, my voice filling the room. The crowd responds with cheers and claps. I scan their faces but find my mind drifting back to Felicity.

I launch into my first joke, something about dating apps and how you can swipe left on someone and end up matching with their hotter sibling. The crowd laughs, but I'm half-committed. My hand still tingles from where Icaught Felicity's arm to steady her. Her skin was so soft under my fingers.

"Y'know," I continue, leaning into the mic with a smirk, "people say New York is the city that never sleeps. But honestly, that's just 'cause everyone’s too busy avoiding eye contact on the subway." The crowd chuckles, and I glimpse Felicity's smile from the corner of my eye. It’s like a spark that ignites something primal in me, making my pulse quicken.

Laughter ripples through the audience again, but it feels distant, like background noise to the reel of the pretty waitress playing in my head. Her wary eyes, framed by dark lashes that fluttered as she apologized. Her hair falling over her shoulders in waves that seemed to shimmer even under the harsh backstage lights.

There's something about her that's... alluring. It's not just her beauty, though that's impossible to ignore, it's her mystery. She looks like she carries secrets in those eyes, deep and guarded, like there are layers to her waiting to be unraveled. The way she moves, the way she speaks, it all hints at a story she's not ready to share. And damn if I don't want to be the one she finally opens up to.

I dive into another bit about how no one actually likes kale; it's just a social experiment to see how far people will go for Instagram likes. They laugh again, but my thoughts keep circling back to Felicity.

What is it about her? Why can’t I shake this feeling? I’m used to women flirting with me after shows or during meet-and-greets, but Felicity didn’t even look at me twice after our collision.

She’s different.

The protective side of me stirs—the animalistic instincts I've spent years learning to control want to know more about her. The weretiger in me senses somethingspecial about her, something worth guarding. It's not just her beauty or the mystery in her eyes; there's a vulnerability she tries to hide, a strength she doesn’t realize she has.

As I wrap up another joke about trying and failing miserably at cooking during quarantine—"Turns out sourdough starters need more than just wishful thinking"—the applause is louder this time, but I'm only half-listening. My eyes keep drifting to Felicity, who's moving gracefully between tables, her long dark hair cascading over her shoulders. There's a tension in her posture that pulls at me, making it hard to focus on anything else. The crowd’s laughter feels distant, almost muted, as my weretiger instincts sharpen, urging me to stay alert and keep an eye on her.

My set finishes strong, the crowd's laughter still echoing in my ears. But as I step off the stage and head back toward the bar area. There's an irresistible pull towards her, a magnetic force I can't ignore. I need to find out what makes her tick, what secrets lie behind those hazel eyes. If it’s the last thing I do, I'm going to uncover the layers she hides beneath that guarded exterior.

I step off the stage, applause still ringing in my ears, and head straight for the bar. Felicity’s there, setting down an empty tray, her eyes scanning the room like she’s searching for escape routes. I lean against the bar, my eyes never leaving her.

"Hey," I say, my voice casual but laced with curiosity. "How'd your first shift go? Everything alright?"

She looks up, surprised to see me standing so close. "It was busy," she replies, her voice soft but steady. Those hazel eyes of hers dart around like they're checking for danger, a fleeting shadow of fear crossing them. I can’t help but notice how her hands fidget with the edge of the tray, a nervous habit she probably doesn’t even realizeshe has.

My instincts flare up, the weretiger within me sensing her unease. I lean in slightly, trying to offer a comforting presence without crowding her. "Busy's good, right? Means more tips," I say, my tone casual but my eyes searching hers for any sign of what’s really bothering her. "You handled it well. Most new servers drop more than one tray their first night," I joke, letting a chuckle escape.

I’m hoping to see that smile again, the one that lights up her entire face and makes her eyes sparkle.

She gives a small laugh, barely more than a breath. "Guess I'm just lucky."

I catch the hint of vulnerability in her voice, and it tugs at something deep inside me. My instincts roar softly, urging me to protect her, to keep her safe from whatever shadows linger in her past. "Luck's only part of it," I say, leaning in just a bit closer. "You've got skill, too. Don't sell yourself short."