Page 2 of Petty AF (At First #1)

two

~ Deaton ~

I arrived at the Centennial, a luxury hotel on the city’s upper west side, ten minutes before my scheduled meeting time with River Brighton. Instead of heading into the lobby, however, I entered the attached cafe and found an empty table on the narrow patio.

The wrought iron chairs had been built for function over comfort, but it was a pleasant night with a cool breeze blowing in from the bay. Mostly, however, I had chosen an outdoor location because, in my experience, it made people feel less confined, essential for a first meeting.

I’d learned the basics—human stylist looking for networking opportunities at the Legacy Gala—through his initial request, but that didn’t tell me who he was as a person.

Wanting to learn more about him, including his expectations for the evening, I had spent the last forty-eight hours exchanging messages with him through the MNSTR app.

I had found him to be surprisingly open and genuine in his responses, and he had a quick wit that made talking to him a pleasure rather than a chore.

He had admitted to knowing very little about paranormal customs and etiquette, and he had asked for help navigating some of the different aspects of shadeling social interactions.

There had been no arrogance in his words, nothing to suggest he considered himself above me, or anyone else, for that matter. If anything, he had been a little too self-deprecating.

His excitement shined through in his messages, but he continuously spoke of the gala with an undertone of disbelief. Like someone who couldn’t quite accept that he deserved to be there.

From what I gathered, he had more than earned his place on the guest list, but I worried others would see his modesty as a weakness to be exploited.

I considered it my job to make sure that didn’t happen.

Settling back in my seat, I tugged at the collar of my dress shirt and straightened my tie, subtly trying to ease some of my restless energy. The full moon that brushed the top of the skyline had me on edge, and a quick glance at my surroundings told me I wasn’t the only one.

A female a couple of tables away kept crossing and uncrossing her legs, and a male in the corner had adjusted the cuffs of his jacket at least four times in as many minutes.

The movies had it all wrong. Shadelings didn’t spontaneously lose control and turn into beasts every full moon. The desire existed, though, the innate need to shed our humanity and give ourselves over to our baser instincts.

It didn’t just affect shifters and weres either. Every shadeling reacted to the full moon to some degree. Magic users received a boost to their spells, but that also came with a spike of anxiety. Vampires experienced increased thirst, and demons got pretty thirsty too. Just in different ways.

Worse, control didn’t come naturally. It was a skill that had to be learned and developed over years, making puberty a real bitch for most paranormal kids.

I checked my watch and sighed. Barely three minutes had passed since I’d arrived.

As much as I wanted to blame my impatience on the moon, I couldn’t deny that I felt a strange sense of anticipation—something that hadn’t happened with a client in a long time.

Yet, ever since my first exchange with River, I had been swinging wildly between professional obligation and personal curiosity.

The cafe’s patio door swung open with a quiet swish as the rubber edge at the bottom scraped against the concrete. I instinctively glanced over, but it wasn’t him.

Instead, a young woman with an oversized cup of coffee passed in front of my table, her movements stiff and her expression tight. She took a seat near the railing, her gaze flickering momentarily toward the sky before she visibly shook herself and began rifling through her bag.

A waiter passed next, his tray balanced precariously with mismatched plates that rattled against each other.

A couple near the entrance laughed a little too loudly at a shared joke.

The guy in the corner continued to readjust his cuffs.

A younger male pushed a rolling suitcase along the sidewalk, his eye twitching every time the front wheel squeaked.

I sighed again as I repositioned in my seat. I wasn’t typically so hyperaware of those around me. With my senses already on high alert, however, the fluctuating energy from so many supernaturals in one place couldn’t be ignored.

Grasping for a distraction, I turned to thoughts of River, wondering what he would be like in person. Would he carry the same humbleness as he had in his messages? The same good humor? Or would he turn into an insufferable asshole without the buffer of a phone screen?

Not that it mattered since I had no intentions of making it personal. My job was to get him into the party, then blend into the background until he needed me. The fact that he intrigued me beyond what would be considered necessary for the task didn’t matter.

It sure as hell didn’t need to be acknowledged.

The patio door swung open again, and this time, I knew it was him before I even looked up, sensing it in the way his presence shifted the energy again. He stood off to the side, tucked into a shadowy corner as he scanned the tables, clearly looking for me.

Instead of motioning to him or calling out, however, I sat back, taking the opportunity to study him.

His dark suit molded to every slender curve, elegant without being flashy.

A rarity in settings like the Legacy Gala, where posturing was practically an art form.

When he turned his head, his dark hair gleamed in the string lights that stretched the length of the awning, the ends fluttering around his arms in the breeze.

He wore an expression of nervous resolve as he searched the patio, his body language rife with hesitancy. Not as if he thought he had made a mistake by hiring me, though. It felt more like someone wary of taking up too much space where they didn’t belong.

I extended my arm over my head and waved, smiling when he noticed me and began making his way to the table. Standing as he approached, I offered my hand in greeting.

“You must be River.”

His smile was quick but fleeting, a flash of warmth that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “And you must be Deaton.” He spoke calmly, but with an edge of unease beneath the polite exterior. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”

“Not at all. I just arrived—”

The wind shifted, bringing with it an intoxicating scent that stilled the words on my tongue. Sweet yet sharp, it brought to mind cherry tarts cooling on a spring windowsill. Not a scent I had ever found particularly enticing before, but coming from River, it proved to be dangerously alluring.

My fingers tightened reflexively around his hand, and I had to force myself to release him and resume my seat. Off balance, I cleared my throat and forced another smile.

“That’s an interesting cologne you’re wearing,” I commented as he settled into the chair across from me.

His eyebrows drew together, and he tilted his head. “I’m not wearing any cologne. I was worried it might be too…offensive.” Pulling his hair forward, he brought it to his nose and sniffed delicately. “Maybe it’s my shampoo? Is it too much? Does it smell bad?”

“No, it’s nice,” I hurried to assure him, hating that I’d made him feel self-conscious.

I also knew the scent didn’t come from anything chemical or artificial. Asking about his cologne had been nothing more than denial, pure and simple. Whatever it was, I seemed to be the only one reacting to it, too, putting it solidly in the column of a me problem.

“So, tell me what the goals are for tonight,” I suggested, attempting to steer us back into more comfortable territory. “Are you hoping to pick up some new clients, or are you looking to make more business connections?”

“Both?” he answered, his voice lilting at the end. “Is that greedy?”

Ambitious maybe, but I wouldn’t call it greedy. It wouldn’t be easy, though. Shadelings could be mistrusting of strangers, and since he didn’t strut into the room like the world owed him its attention, he might be easily overlooked.

“Word of advice?”

He nodded immediately, his crystal blue eyes darkening with worry. “Yes, please.”

I leaned forward, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. “Stop asking for permission.”

While he hadn’t said the words directly, everything out of his mouth held the undercurrent of an apology. For being human. For having goals. For existing.

What I saw as cute and endearing, others would see as a failing, and they’d eat him alive.

He laughed, soft but genuine, and the tension in his shoulders eased a fraction. “Harsh.” He leaned in, mirroring my posture. “But fair. I’ll work on it.”

He had the most striking eyes. Bright, alert, and such an unusual shade of blue I couldn’t put a name to it. Hell, they didn’t even look real. I stared a little too intently, looking for the gleam of the light or the visible edges of contacts, but no. His eyes were really just that blue.

“Have you been to a lot of these kinds of parties?” he asked, pulling me out of my thoughts and back into the conversation.

“A few.”

I mainly contracted with MNSTR for personal protection, but I knew my way around high-profile events. I’d been to the Legacy Gala twice before, and I had escorted clients to a handful of other events around the city.

River bobbed his head thoughtfully. “Well, I’m really glad you’re here.”

Me too, and not just because I was being paid for it. “Just be yourself.”

“That is the worst advice ever.”

“Why do you say that?” I teased. “I like who you are.”

He ducked his head, but not before I caught his shy smile. “Thanks, but that’s not—”

“You deserve to be here,” I interrupted, a note of finality in my voice. “You belong.”

He laughed again, though I didn’t think I had said anything funny. Before I could question him about it, though, his gaze flickered to the white limousine that had just pulled to a stop in front of the hotel. The back door opened, and a lavishly dressed couple emerged onto the sidewalk.

I took notice, but River held most of my attention, and I couldn’t hold back a chuckle when he wrinkled his nose.

“Not to your standards?” I asked.

“It’s…different.”

Which sounded like a diplomatic way of saying the pair looked like a walking fashion disaster. “What would you have done differently?”

“Everything,” he muttered, then immediately pressed his lips together, his eyes widening with panic.

“Don’t worry,” I assured him. “It’ll be our secret.” Leaning back, I held my arms out to my sides, inviting his gaze. “What about me? How do I rank?”

“Well, you’re gorgeous, of course, so I imagine everything looks good on you. I like—” His voice died abruptly, and his face flamed about a dozen different shades of red.

Gods, he was fucking adorable.

I dropped my arms and bent toward him again. “What do you like, River?”

He coughed to clear his throat and fidgeted in his seat, his gaze firmly affixed to the table. “I like the black on black, and your tie adds color without being garish.”

Honestly, I’d paired my suit with a black dress shirt because I had forgotten to pick up the white one from the dry cleaner. The icy blue tie striped with silver had been a gift from my sister, and nothing came with a designer label.

When I told him this, he rolled his eyes.

“Fashion isn’t about labels, and money can’t buy good taste.” His eyes flickered toward the limousine still parked on the curb, though he refrained from saying anything else about the couple.

“That right there.” I extended my index finger and pointed it at his chest. “Keep that energy tonight.”

He arched an eyebrow at me. “What energy would that be?”

“Quiet judgment with the receipts to back it up.”

Laughing, he moved to the edge of his chair and folded his arms on the tabletop. “You are a bad influence, Deaton Horne.”

“Not yet.” I grin, smooth and easy. “That cost extra.”

Though the pink returned to his face, he didn’t look away this time. Instead, he held my gaze, those blue eyes sparking with challenge.

“How much?”

Damn, I liked that. Maybe a little too much.

I adjusted in my seat to accommodate my growing erection, but when I spoke, I kept my voice light and teasing. “I guess that depends on how much you want to be…influenced.”

The color in his cheeks deepened and spread to the tips of his ears. After a few seconds, he gave up the fight and dropped his gaze.

“We should probably head inside.”

I nodded because it was expected. In truth, I didn’t want to give up our time together yet, and I especially hated the idea of sharing him with a room full of people.

Stupid, of course. I knew better than to make things personal, but I couldn’t take it back now. I’d just have to be more careful going forward, do my job, and make sure I didn’t ruin this opportunity for him because I had been reckless enough to blur the lines.

“You’ll stay close, right?” he asked as he rose to his feet.

I dipped my head again as I joined him. “If that’s what you want.”

He fidgeted with his bowtie and shuffled closer, bringing with him that hypnotizing scent that tested all my self-control.

“Don’t leave me.”

Though I knew he meant the party, those three little words awakened something inside me. Something I didn’t understand and didn’t know if I was ready to confront.

I glanced over my shoulder, looking toward the sky. Probably just the effects of the full moon, I reasoned to myself. Everything felt heightened because of it, and I’d be fine come morning.

Then River linked his arm through mine, pressing against my side, and my entire fucking body reacted like I’d been struck by lightning. My muscles tightened. My heart raced. A low growl built in my chest, forcing me to choke it back.

“Ready?” he asked.

I could only nod.

Fuck, it was going to be a long night.