Page 44 of Deadly Knight

The second he’s gone, Nora and Melissa are both staring at me, with Nora looking seconds away from bursting. Even Melissa’s husband glances over, amused, before giving the front his attention.

“Don’t say anything,” I mutter to Nora, who only shrugs in response and twists around in her chair.

With her attention off me, I’m immediately hit with the strange but almost welcoming—simply for their familiarity—tingles that coast over the back of my neck and chill the length of my spine, making me shoot straighter in my chair.

Not again.

If I admitted this sensation to anyone outside Ava, they’d think I’m insane. A year ago, I did mention it to Ava, but she believes it’s linked to anxiety and suggested I reflect on the moments they happen to find a common thread between all instances.

It doesn’t feel like anxiety. It feels…well, if I’m honest with myself, it feels like I’m being watched.

It occurs too randomly to trace similarities between the occurrences. Too infrequently to really worry about. Except when it does happen, Idoget worried. I get thrown back to another time, when men’s gazes were vile before theytook.

My hand drifts to my arm, the urge to remind myself where I am too difficult to ignore, but with Caleb’s sweater covering me, the material ensures my nails don’t harm my skin. While I’m grateful it saved me from self-harm, I’m also annoyed, stuck with trying to recite the numerous reminders Ava has drilled into my head over the years.

Breathe. I’m safe. Okay.They’renot watching me. No one is. I’m safe on the correct side of my protective barrier.

Needing something else to focus on, to get me away from my mental spiral, I twist towards the bar, eyes scanning over the thin crowd at the back of the room until spotting Caleb. He’s facing my way while the bartender is popping open two bottles.

Maybe he was behind the strange sensation. Doesn’t explain every other instance, but I’ll take the excuse this time.

Caleb returns and drops one bottle in front of me. He pushes his hair to the side and tilts his head to look at me, and?—

My vision rocks, hands clutching the edge of the table.

How did I not see it before now? It all makes so much fucking sense. My allure to Caleb. He reminds me of…ofhim.Of a name locked behind a wall, but in this instance, I allow it to slip through the crack made.

Of Dimitri Volkov.

It’s in the sweep of dark hair, his soulful eyes, his flirty grin, ignoring the fact I probably seem slightly insane.

Caleb looksnothinglike him. His face is rounder, his hair longer, his build lankier. But he’s the closest reminder of Dimitri I’ve had in a long time, and Caleb’s unknowingly tossing away years of repressed memories and ricocheting me through the history I’m forever running from.

No. Brain, focus!My grip gets tighter around the edge of the table, my breaths forced between clenched teeth. I need to ground myself, to reclaim the control of the moment. So often, I have no control. I haven’t in a long fucking time, starting with the night my life changed. But this…Caleb… Imustregain control.

Safe. Not real.

Caleb—real and safe. He’s real. He’s not Dimitri. He’s safe…I hope.

“You okay?” His gaze flicks over my face, searching for the answer. “Still cold?”

I’m not, but I bring his sweater tighter around me, welcoming the sandalwood scent. Dimitri never smelled like sandalwood. He—Whoa, nope! Don’t go there. Not worth the disturbed sleep when I unwittingly visit the past.

“Yeah,” I lie. “I’m good. Your sweater helps.”

“Looks better on you than me anyway. I’m half tempted to let you keep it.”

He’s flirting. Okay. I think I can handle this.

Past him, Melissa whips around, her smile creeping up in the corners. She winks before leaning into her husband again.

“I have to give it back so I can borrow it the next time I’m cold.”

Hey, look at me go.Flirting doesn’t happen often—meaning ever. My tongue never works to that extreme, but something has helped my brain flick fromtraumatized girltofunctioning womantonight, and I’ll take it. It’s a welcome reprieve from the norm.

He chuckles, a sound that sets him further apart from the person of my past. Dimitri’s chuckle promised a core-clenching intensity that both thrilled and excited me, while Caleb’s is lighthearted and friendly. He leans back against his chair and drags his beer closer, highlighting another major difference.Dimitri was always tense, stressed about his family and organization, hardly ever as lax as Caleb is.

And unless I’m imagining things, he leans a bit closer to me too.