Page 26

Chapter 25

Deirdre

“Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore...” Edgar Allan Poe

T he bass thrums through the walls of Salvation . I never thought I’d enjoy working a shift, but the low hum of conversation blending with the clinking of glasses and the occasional burst of laughter is ironically relaxing. Tonight is a stark contrast from reading until my eyes bleed or writing a paper for one very broody boyfriend. Or Professor. I’m not quite sure where we land on titles.

It’s a busy night, but not chaotic. Just the right amount of customers to keep things moving without making me want to rip my hair out.

I adjust the hem of my black and white pleated skirt with one hand as I walk over to my regular’s table, balancing a tray of cocktails on the other. The uniform here is ridiculous, but it pays well, and the tips are worth the occasional lingering stare from drunk patrons. Tonight, I may have added thigh highs just for Kieran.

Claire is perched at the bar, twirling a cocktail straw between her fingers as she shamelessly flirts with Gabe, who leans against the counter looking thoroughly amused. In between customers, they exchange lingering glances, Claire’s giggles carrying over the music.

I’m walking back to the bar when I feel his stare on me.

A rush of warmth spreads through my chest, my pulse fluttering. I don’t even have to look. I know.

He just walked into the bar.

I force myself to keep my focus on walking back to the bar. The fact that this man can knock me off my center of gravity and wake up the butterflies within me just by stepping into a building is ridiculous.

Pathetic? Probably. Do I care? Absolutely not.

I’m hyper aware of his presence, the way the energy in the room shifts ever so slightly. The last of the sun casts a golden glow through the windows, illuminating his sharp features as he strides. There’s something more to him tonight. More confident? Less guarded? Dare I say, happy?

I steal a glance as he approaches, and my stomach does a ridiculous little flip at how damn good he looks. Dark slacks, a fitted button-down with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his forearms in a way that should be illegal. His hair is slightly tousled, like he ran his fingers through it before stepping inside, and I swear he somehow looks even better under the dim bar lighting.

He heads straight for the bar, his expression cool and collected.

“Professor McKnight,” Claire greets, voice thick with amusement.

Gabe smirks, nodding in greeting. “Mr. McKnight.”

“Good evening, Gabe. Miss Thompson.” Kieran offers them both a polite nod before his gaze finds mine, and for a split second, the rest of the bar disappears.

“Miss Ravencroft,” he says smoothly, voice as deep and measured as ever.

My stomach tightens at the formal address, even as my fingers tighten around the wine glass Gabe has already set in front of me. He’s keeping it professional. Here, in public, in front of them. But the heat in his eyes tells a different story.

Claire snorts, barely holding back a laugh. “Oh, come on .”

Gabe grins, shaking his head.

I bite my lip, fighting a smile as I hand him his wine glass and place my hands on the counter, tilting my head. “Professor,” I reply sweetly, unable to resist playing along.

His lips twitch, but his eyes darken just enough to send a shiver down my spine.

Oh, this is going to be fun.

Kieran takes a long sip of the red wine I gave him earlier. He is drinking it slowly tonight, his fingers curled around the glass like he’s savoring the taste. I can feel the weight of his gaze on me as he stares over the rim of the glass. Something is different tonight. He is less guarded, less tense. Like he’s allowing himself to just be here and enjoy himself.

I’m handing off another drink to a customer and walking back to the bar when I feel the warmth of his presence close to mine. Not too obvious, not enough to make anyone raise an eyebrow, but just enough that when he speaks, it’s for me alone.

“Normally, the schoolgirl outfit doesn’t do it for me,” he whispers, his voice a low rasp just above the hum of music. “But on you…”

I glance up at him, tilting my head, and my lips curve into a teasing smirk.

“ But on me ?” I echo, arching a brow as I lean just slightly into his space, enjoying the way his breath catches and the way his grip tightens on the glass.

His lips twitch like he’s fighting a smile, but his eyes betray him, dark and heated, the way they always get when I push him just enough to break through that ever-composed exterior of his.

He exhales through his nose and lets out a quiet chuckle under his breath. “You know exactly what you’re doing,” he says, shaking his head as he takes another sip of his wine.

I grin, my fingers trailing along the edge of the bar as I pretend to be busy, though we both know my attention is fully on him.

“I have no idea what you mean, Professor ,” I say innocently. “I’m just doing my job.”

His jaw flexes, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek, and I swear I can feel the way his restraint teeters on the edge of something dangerous.

He approaches me slowly. Feeling him mere inches away from me is making me delirious.

Keep your shit together, D.

“You, Miss Ravencroft, are such a menace,” he murmurs, his hand gripping my hip ever so slightly as he leans in, his breath warm against my temple. His finger discreetly runs across the top of my thigh-high, circling the skin of my inner thigh.

Chills erupt on my skin, and I have to bite my lip to keep from reacting too obviously. “If it’s any consolation,” I whisper back, “I’d rather be your menace than anyone else’s.”

He makes a low sound in his throat, and suddenly, he steps back just slightly, as if putting space between us is the only way he’ll be able to control himself.

“Deirdre,” he warns, voice low, his fingers flexing at his side.

I flash him an innocent smile, knowing full well that I’ve just made it very difficult for him to behave himself for the rest of the night.

Vincent walks by just as I’m about to press Kieran further, clearing his throat as he passes. The sound is pointed. It comes off as an acknowledgment and warning all wrapped up in one, and Kieran responds with a curt nod, his expression void of emotion. It feels like they’re communicating without using words.

I watch Vincent disappear toward the back of the bar and walk into the office.

I glance back up at Kieran. “That reminds me,” I say, lowering my voice. “You wouldn’t happen to know why your bar owner was acting so weird Saturday night?”

Kieran lifts a brow. “Weird how?”

I cross my arms, shifting my weight onto one hip. “Oh, come on, Kieran. He was watching me. Really watching me. It was creepy.”

Amusement flickers across Kieran’s face, and he swirls the wine in his glass, taking another slow sip before answering.

“Vincent can be intense at times,” he admits, his voice tinged with a light tease. “But he takes his orders very well.”

I blink. “Orders?”

Kieran’s lips twitch like he’s trying not to smirk.

I narrow my eyes, sensing there’s more he’s not saying. Then, just to mess with him, I add with a mischievous quip, “Wait, are you saying Vincent is your sub too?”

That does it.

Kieran throws his head back and lets out an actual, deep, real laugh, the kind I rarely get to hear. It’s rich and warm and fills me with a giddy feeling in my stomach.

“I don’t know what Vincent does in his personal time,” he says, still grinning, “but I would be hard-pressed to find a better business partner than him. So yes, he was following my orders.”

I tilt my head, my amusement fading into curiosity. “I’m gonna need you to clarify.”

Kieran sets his drink down on the bar and meets my gaze head-on, his expression shifting to something more serious. “I told him to protect you.”

My breath catches. “So…he knows about us?”

Kieran shrugs, unbothered. “You have Claire and Gabe to talk to.” His eyes soften, the edges of his intensity rounding out just a little. “Vincent is a longtime friend. I have him.”

Warmth spreads through my chest. He isn’t keeping me a secret. He isn’t shoving me into a hidden part of his life. I matter enough for him to tell someone he trusts.

I exhale, something tight inside me loosening.

“Well,” I murmur, reaching out to lightly graze my fingers against his, “that would’ve been nice to know before I thought I was being stalked or about to be kidnapped and murdered by my own boss.”

Kieran smirks, his fingers subtly curling around mine. “Not stalked,” he corrects. “Protected.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t stop the small, soft smile that tugs at my lips.

The night is winding down, the last of the patrons stumbling out as the bouncers lock up behind them. The hum of music has faded, the clinking of glasses and laughter replaced by the quiet rustling of staff finishing their cleanup. But I’m tucked away in the farthest corner of the bar, wrapped in the warmth of Kieran’s presence, reluctant to let go.

His hand rests low on my back, tracing absent-minded circles through the thin fabric of my uniform. We haven’t spoken in the last few minutes, just existing in this small space of time where the night isn’t quite over, but reality is waiting just outside the door.

“I hate leaving you,” I murmur, my fingers gripping the lapels of his jacket.

Kieran exhales, pressing his forehead to mine. “I know,” he says, voice rough. “But I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

Our double date.

The thought of spending the day with him outside of stolen moments and secrecy sends a thrill through me.

But still, I want tonight.

Kieran must see it in my eyes because he groans, pulling me impossibly closer. “Don’t look at me like that,” he warns. “You’re making it harder.”

I smirk, leaning up until my lips ghost over his. “That’s kind of the point.”

His resolve snaps like a thread. He crushes his mouth to mine in a kiss that’s deep and desperate. I melt into him, drinking him in and tasting the wine on his lips. When he finally pulls away, I’m breathless, my lips tingling, and my body aching to chase after him.

“We will pick you girls up at four sharp,” he murmurs, brushing one last kiss to my forehead before stepping back.

I watch him go, swallowing down the ridiculous urge to call him back and drag him home with me. Instead, I turn to find Claire slumped over the bar, giggling into her empty glass while Gabe stands beside her, looking thoroughly entertained.

“Glad I drove us,” I say, shaking my head as I walk over, pulling my apron off and throwing it across the bar.

Gabe snickers, slinging an arm around Claire’s shoulders as she hums a nonsense tune to herself.

“Yeah, I’d say she’s real fit to operate heavy machinery.”

“You did this to her,” I point out.

“She had two martinis. TWO,” he says in defense, holding his hands up. “Not my fault you girls can’t handle her liquor.”

I scoff at him and roll my eyes.

Claire blinks up at him, her smile lopsided. “I can totally drive.”

I snort. “No, you absolutely cannot.”

Gabe chuckles, ruffling her hair. “Go tuck her in before she tries to steal my keys.” He presses a quick kiss to her cheek and walks back around the bar to finish cleaning.

I roll my eyes and can’t help but smile. I loop an arm around Claire and guide her toward the door. As we step out into the cool night air, she leans her head on my shoulder, sighing dramatically.

“Just wait ’til you see what P-professor McKnight has in store for you,” she mutters, her words slurred but sure. “He loooves you,” she drawls.

I freeze for half a second, and my heart skips a beat. I want to ask her to repeat herself, but she is already mumbling something else about wanting pancakes, completely oblivious to the weight of what she just said.

I shake my head and keep walking, but her words follow me all the way back to the dorm.