Page 13 of Fated Mates and How to Seduce Them (Fated Mates #4)

He made a good point, but Ian wasn’t blind.

André would absolutely abuse having his number.

If Ian were wise, he wouldn’t easily give it over.

So why was his hand already pulling his phone out and unlocking it?

He didn’t understand himself but passed it over anyway so André could type in his info, seeming quite pleased with his victory.

He immediately texted himself so he had Ian’s number in return, grinning all the while. Which was all well and good for him, he’d gotten his way, but now that Ian thought about it, he couldn’t dismiss the scene from before so easily.

“André, what would you have done if I hadn’t been there? Would you have been pressured into going with those girls?”

André looked up from his phone, his head canted in question. “Why? Are you worried about me?”

“I don’t want a repeat of last weekend in the bar. Answer me something. Can’t you use one of your vampire powers in those situations?"

“Can’t,” André denied immediately. “For two reasons.”

“I’d love to hear them.”

“Well, first reason is it’s against the human and vampire laws.

I can use those powers under two circumstances, namely to protect my human mate from danger, or to test if someone is a mate.

There’s not so nice consequences if you use them willy-nilly, like making obnoxious girls go away.

Second reason is, again, my father has connections with both vampire and human politicians.

Anything I do reflects on him, and I don’t want to get him into trouble. ”

Laid out in such a way, it seemed obvious that for all André’s power, his hands were tied. “I guess people know this and take advantage?”

“Yeah…sometimes. I need to put my foot down, but I haven’t figured out a good way of doing so without ending up on social media.”

“If you need me to be your excuse, I can be. I owe you that much.”

“You are the sweetest thing, and you owe me nothing.” André murmured, lips curving up at the corners. He stepped in close and hugged Ian to him, arms gentle but firm around his shoulders.

Ian stiffened, not sure how to react to this sudden hug.

He’d never been hugged by a man except for his late adoptive father, and this felt worlds different.

André had a slender but tall build, and he leaned in to wrap himself around Ian, encompassing him.

What the hell was this man doing right in the middle of campus?

“André,” Ian protested, pushing lightly at his chest.

“If you say sweet things to me, I can’t control myself.” He said this right into Ian’s ear, in this low, throaty way that made Ian want to put some distance between them.

“Control yourself anyway.”

André finally stepped back, but he didn’t look dismayed—far from it. “Text me when you’re free, okay? I want to come over.”

“Yes, yes. Fine. I have to get to class.”

“Me too. See you soon, Ian!”

Ian watched him stride away, shaking his head the whole time. How was it that whenever he crossed paths with André, he always ended up giving in to the man? If this was a battle, Ian was in danger of losing the war.

He blamed André’s charm. That had to be why he was exasperated but still smiling.

Ian didn’t work tomorrow, but he wasn’t about to tell André that until much later today. He’d given André quite enough openings this morning. He had to draw the line somewhere.

Friday dawned and Ian found himself waiting just outside the college’s main café. Waiting for whom, you ask?

André.

Somehow—he had no idea how, despite living it—after he’d helped André escape those girls, it had become routine for them to meet midmorning for coffee.

For the record, Ian had done his best to draw a line.

Only, André had a legitimate reason for every meeting, at least the first three days.

He’d needed to ask more questions about the kids, or he’d needed to coordinate something for Mary, or… you get the gist.

All of those coffee breaks with André had also somehow ended up with him walking Ian to class, or if neither had class right after, hanging out until lunch while Ian did schoolwork, and then André insisting on buying his lunch.

He claimed paying for his meals was a thank-you for Ian’s time, despite Ian protesting he could afford his own meals, but André used the unfair advantage of vampiric speed each time to beat him to the register.

What it boiled down to was that André was a fucking expert at obliterating lines.

Or Ian was just incredibly susceptible to his brilliant excuses.

Could be both.

Now, André hadn’t used any kind of excuse to meet up today, but somehow Ian found himself at the café anyway.

After a few days of this new routine, Ian could admit to himself André made for surprisingly pleasant company—when he wasn’t being an obnoxious flirt—and frankly, Ian was hungry for adult conversation.

Yes, he went to school and worked, but he didn’t consider drunk patrons and sleep-deprived classmates to be particularly fruitful exchanges.

Plus, he was always on the move. These little coffee breaks with André were moments he could sit, talk, and not rush around like a crazy person.

That was his excuse and he was running with it.

André was running a little late today, so Ian went ahead and got the usual iced coffee the man chose. He stepped out of the café and grabbed one of the outside tables. It was crowded and noisy inside, and he liked to hear himself think.

He’d barely sat at the table when André appeared, moving at a jog.

Well, it was likely the equivalent of a casual walk for a vampire, but he moved a bit too fast to call it such by human standards.

Which did beg the question: Did a normal walk feel like a crawl to them? Inquiring minds wanted to know.

Interestingly, he had in hand a large portfolio and a…tackle box? As in, for fishing?

“Several things do not make sense,” Ian observed as André set everything down on the table. “I thought you were studying law?”

“I am,” he answered as he plopped himself into the seat. “Ooooh, you got me coffee.”

“You wouldn’t have gotten coffee otherwise. Did you not see the line inside? It’s insane, and besides, I owe you for several meals.”

André pouted. “Those were all my treat, not meant to be repaid, because I wanted to spoil you. As for the crowd, seems the whole English Lit department got out of class early. Some moron accidentally pulled the fire alarm, so everyone had to evacuate the building. False alarm, but no sense restarting class, I guess.”

That did explain the unusually packed conditions inside the café for this time of day.

But Ian’s curiosity was getting the better of him. “Why the portfolio and box?”

“Oh, you didn’t know? I’m an art minor.”

Ian blinked. Blinked again. He didn’t expect to hear those words out of André’s mouth. “You are?”

“Sure am. Don’t I look the artistic type?” André struck a pose, offering his side profile, hand raised to touch his chin.

“Well, yes,” Ian admitted, still absorbing this new information.

Honestly he’d expected André to act like a nepo baby and study business or something, so even his political science major made him scratch his head.

“It’s why I was taken aback when you said you were heading for law school.

But, uh, how do law and art go together? ”

“They don’t. I chose law because I’d be good at it, but art’s fun, so I’m doing art to offset the boring classes.”

Now that made perfect sense. Also purely André logic. “Are you planning on following in your father’s footsteps?”

“Naw, not my speed. I don’t like politics.”

“Then what kind of lawyer…?”

“I’m thinking divorce attorney.”

“Uh, really?”

“Yup. I am a drama llama.” He buffed his knuckles against his chest, making a display of blowing on his nails.

This made perfect sense. André was the type to enjoy the show.

“What’s your minor, anyway?”

“Psychology,” Ian answered with a shrug. “Which makes sense with my social work major. I didn’t have something I strongly wanted to study aside from my major, so my advisor suggested psychology. Lots of reading, for sure, but it is fascinating. Yes, I know I’m a nerd.”

“An incredibly cute one.” André sipped his coffee before giving Ian that infatuated smile of his. “Love me a man with beauty and brains.”

Ian rolled his eyes at the unnecessary flirting.

“How come you never believe me when I say things like that?” he asked with a pout.

Ian chose to change the subject. No need to rehash it. “So what are you drawing? Painting?”

“Painting, hence the tackle box. Tackle boxes are great for art supplies.” André paused, sweeping Ian with his eyes and grinning. “Actually, I’m doing figure studies and meant to ask you—”

“You’re not painting me nude.”

“Awwww!”

“I just knew from that lecherous grin. You’re so predictable.”

André snickered, not at all repentant. “I really am doing figure studies, but we’re focusing on the difficult things. Namely hands. Hands are killer to get right. Can I at least draw your nude hand?”

“Nude hand? Seriously?” Ian shook his head, amused. “Yeah, fine, I think my virtue can handle exposed hands.”

“Amazing. You said you have a huge gap between classes today, right?”

“Right, about three hours. I planned to read one of my assigned books.”

“You read, I draw, then?”

Part of the reason why Ian found it so hard to push André away was that he wasn’t the annoying type.

He went out of his way to accommodate what Ian needed, seemingly just happy with Ian’s presence.

Like now, when Ian said he needed to focus on schoolwork, André found a way to hang out with him without impeding.

Personally, Ian had an internal bet on how long André would be willing to play host before losing interest in Ian altogether. He waited for the other shoe to drop, but for now, their dynamic worked.

“Then let’s settle in,” Ian suggested, reaching for his backpack hanging on the back of his chair. “How much time do you have?”

“For you? All the time in the world.”

He always did. At least for now. Ian shot him an unamused look but found André already absorbed in a sketchbook, the semipermanent smile he always seemed to wear around Ian in place. For now, for today, he’d focus on his schoolwork and enjoy this baffling man’s company a little longer.