Page 15

I don’t have an answer. He’s just… different. The way I want him is different. He’s not a fuck around kind of guy. He’s… more. It’s been a while since I found more, even longer since I wanted it, considering I’ve never actually been interested in a relationship type thing before.

I might be vain and petty, but I’m not an idiot. I’m not going to let more slip out of my fingers while it’s right in front of me. Or at least, that was the theory. Which was all well and good when it wasn’t sitting right in front of me, trying not to spontaneously combust in his embarrassment.

Telling myself I need to make sure that he’s okay, I let myself soak in Finn’s look tonight. Since that night he first came here alone, he hasn’t worn black, choosing to come much more comfortably as himself.

Tonight, he’s in a soft pink collared shirt that makes him look almost alive again.

It’s tighter than what he usually wears, the cut straining across his chest and stomach to make him look a little more defined than what I thought he would be.

He’s tamed his hair tonight too. It’s been styled to make it look all casually windswept, but I’m acquainted enough with hair styling to know the look takes effort.

“I’m Willan, by the way,” Willan says, drawing my attention back to him once more. “Finn’s friend.”

Willan emphasises the word, sticking out a hand with long, elegant fingers. Rising from the bar, I take it. It’s a friendly shake, but I can feel the zap of magic in his grip .

“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Kai.”

“I think we’re all aware of who you are.” Willan snickers, earning himself a playful backhand to the chest from Finn. Chuckling at the vivid blush burning Finn’s cheek, I give them a wink and preen a little, running my hand through my hair and posing.

“Gods, are you actually going to do any work tonight? I’ll just finish unloading the stock and serve all the customers. Don’t you worry. You just keep flirting,” Lifo hisses as he stalks behind me, dropping down to continue unloading the drinks.

Finn winces at the admonishment; it’s not the first time Lifo’s cracked the shits when I’ve been talking to him. Willan doesn’t seem to care about it at all. He’s looking around the bar like he’s looking for someone.

“I’m on my own tonight. Nikolo’s got the night off.” My guess pays off. Maybe I still have a little of my instincts hidden away in the deep dark recesses of my being.

Willan tries to play it cool, smoothing a hand over the complicated braids at the side of his head and then down the buttons of his jacket, subtly clearing his throat.

“I wasn’t—I mean—” He cuts off when Finn bursts into loud belly laughter.

“Gods, you're worse than Lusce and Jax! That’s why you wanted to come tonight? You have a thing for Nikolo? I didn’t think you guys were being serious!”

Willan’s pale skin splatters with a splotchy red. His heart races with his embarrassment. I can hear it. It makes my teeth ache.

“No!” He manages to get out. “No. I just. I know him. From before.” Finn’s laughter dies off and we both look at his friend with intrigue .

“Really? Why didn’t you say something?” Finn’s tone is friendly and curious.

Me? I’m feeling a little less friendly about it, my newfound appreciation for the mage taking a hard left into suspicious territory. I cross my arms over my chest and wait for his friend's reply, ignoring Lifo when he “accidentally” whacks me with the fridge door.

Willan sighs restrainedly. He’s got the look of a mage, but he’s not as dramatic as most I’ve known. “It’s not a big deal. Just thought I’d say hi.”

I’m torn between dropping it, like Willan is obviously desperate for me to do, and digging for information. Not just because Nikolo is my friend and I’m protective of him—I’m also nosey as shit.

Willan is saved from my curiosity by the arrival of a blue-haired fae at the bar, ready to order for their table. I make the drinks quickly and run them over, then let myself get distracted by a few other things. By the time I work my way back to them, the conversation has moved on.

While they chat, I loiter around their area, keeping myself busy chopping up fruit wedges for drinks and mixing drinks for anyone who wanders up to the bar.

Sure it makes things easy but it’s a total waste of my talents, and truth be told, I’m actually a little miffed that I don’t get to show off for them. Well, Finn anyway.

“Got big plans this weekend?” I ask eventually, seizing on a lull in their conversation—a nervous bubble of energy in my stomach prompting the question. This is it. This is the moment. I just know .

“Oh, you know me.” Finn’s voice turns waspy. “Might throw down with some minotaurs and then join some succubi for an orgy and then make a sacrifice to the gods.”

Willan snorts, rolling his eyes. I think he gives Finn's chair a good kick too, because Finn jumps on his seat and glares at his friend. His hair giving way and falling in his face kind of ruins the effect. But then he does that thing that he does when he gets irritated with his hair and he shoves it back. There is something about it that’s just… cute. I like it.

I bite my lip to try and contain my smile, dropping my eyes to the limes I’m meant to be slicing.

“Sounds like you’re gonna be super busy.

Which is good, because I have work.” I nod, scraping the sliced limes carefully into their container and grabbing a couple more.

“But like, maybe you should give me your number? Just in case the orgy falls through? Or like, you need an extra set of hands for the sacrifice.”

I have to work to keep my voice casual, and I’m pretty sure no one can see the twitchiness in my hands even though it feels like my entire body is buzzing.

It’s not like I’m new to asking guys for their number. Actually, scratch that. I am. Usually they are asking for mine. Or we met on an app so it’s irrelevant. Or at a club and it’s really irrelevant because there is zero chance of seeing each other after our hook up.

But Finn’s different. Not just because I have the distinct feeling that if I don’t make the jump, Finn’s not going to do it.

When I look up, Finn is blushing again. It has to be painful, seriously. I didn’t blush this much the night the seam of my shorts tore open when Nikki and I were dancing on the bar and I literally flashed the whole bar everything from crack to balls.

Finn’s biting his lip so hard, his fang has pierced it. There is an extremely distracting drop of blood pooling there. What I wouldn’t give to wrap my hand around the back of his neck, to haul him closer and lick that blood away. Fuck.

Really glad the bar is between us because these pants are too tight to be getting this hard at work .

“Uh, sure. Yup. Sounds good.” Finn finally nods, his tongue darting out to lick at his lip—it really doesn’t help my situation. He digs his phone out of his pocket and unlocks it before sliding it over. “Uh, why don’t you put your number in.”

I do as he asks, calling myself so I have his number too. He snort-laughs when he sees the name of my contact—Kai (Hot Vampire Bartender). It’s the name of mine and Nikolo’s biggest fan account. If he hasn’t already seen it, maybe it’ll help him find it.

I bounce my eyebrows at him, holding down the absolutely insane urge to poke my tongue out at him or pull his hair.

Willan unwittingly comes to my rescue before I cave and resort to giving Finn a noogie or something childish just to be able to touch him, declaring that he needs to go because he has work in the morning.

“Unless you want to stay or something?” He says to Finn who looks torn. And fuck, I wish I had telepathy or something to tell him to stay. I still have a few hours left of my shift, though.

Maybe he can read minds, though, because he shakes his head. “No, I’ve got some things to get done anyway.” He shrugs apologetically.

“Gotta go pick up the sacrifice for the weekend, right? Hit me up, maybe I can help. I know a guy.” It’s not the smoothest line I’ve ever busted out, but he laughs anyway, pulling on his coat.

“Sounds like a plan.” He stops, looking directly at me, a shadow of vulnerability in his face. “I’ll message you?”

“Counting on it.” I reassure him, trying that telepathy thing again to really get my point across. Because scarily enough, I think I’m one-hundred percent serious.