2
SERENA
The bar was more crowded than most at this hour. By the time I’d crossed the room and settled into a stool that put my back to the wall, I was among a good thirty or more people.
Settling in, my eyes shifted left and right. Nobody had seen me, or even wanted to take notice. To everyone except the bartender, I’d been there forever.
They’re not really looking for you, I told myself. Relax.
I’d come here to relax. Hell, I’d risked getting jumped outside my hotel to relax. Might as well relax.
I ordered a double shot of bourbon and slammed it quickly, tipping the bartender twice what the drink cost. He smiled appreciatively, then I ordered a beer. It came in a glass — always with a glass with these people — and a strangely rounded glass at that. At least in England they used pint glasses. Something big and solid you could really wrap your fist around.
England…
A lump formed in my throat, unbidden, unwanted. Rather than continue along down that path, I used my beer to swallow it down.
The minutes ticked by, and still no one came. If anything, the police were looking for the two guys beating the piss out of each other in the alley. An image of my handsome savior floated to mind, all hair and stubble and rugged jawline. Whoever he was, I hoped he’d gotten away. Probably some midnight hero, jacked up on alcohol and feeling especially brave.
But who were those other guys?
Slowly I played the scene over in my mind again; the three strange men approaching me, just outside my hotel. Walking calmly, but just a little too quickly. One of them grinning a malevolent grin. Another one grabbing my arm…
I wondered which of the three I’d sent hurtling into the wall, and whether or not he’d be alright. Probably, I thought to myself. Then again, I’d been amped up. Pumped with adrenaline. And when that happened…
Well when that happened, all bets were off.
I shoved the memory of my attackers from my mind and took another long pull from my beer. It was a lot warmer than I would’ve liked. That was a thing here too — if you didn’t order your beer cold, you got whatever you got. Just another annoying mental note to jot down on this already long, bullshit trip.
It had been four days already — a long, monotonous four days stuck at the top of some random hotel. The room service was good at least, but by now I was restless. Beyond restless.
And lonely too.
Here in the bar, at least there were people. Music played, glasses clinked. I soaked it all in, not even realizing how much I’d been starved for these things these past few days. Normally I enjoyed being alone, but being told to isolate myself somehow bothered me.
As time wore on and no one showed up to get me, I reveled in the smug satisfaction of having gotten away with something. A few things, actually.
“Fuck you Xiomara,” I toasted, hoisting my glass.
I drank in peace. For a little while, anyway. Then the bartender came my way again, this time with a troubled look on his face. I knew right away something was up.
Damn. And I was this close to actually having fun…
“’Allo’ miss,” the man said awkwardly. The French accent on his English was hard, but better than most. “I don’t normally do this, but the gentleman at the end of the bar would like to… well…”
“Well what?”
“He’d like to know when you plan to buy him a drink.”
My eyebrows came together in confusion. The man looked embarrassed.
“His words,” the barkeep said, putting his hands up defensively. “Not mine.”
I scanned the entire line, everyone at the bar. I should’ve just started at the opposite end.
There, in the very last seat, sat the long-haired blonde guy from the alley.
He looked younger than me, but not by much. His jacket was still missing, exposing a set of broad shoulders and tight, well-built arms that looked flexed even when they weren’t. And he was handsome too — even more so than in the alley. Almost model handsome. Obnoxiously handsome.
“He wants a drink, does he?”
The bartender shrugged. “That’s what he said.”
He ignored me the entire time I watched him, smiling and laughing with some pretty brunette who sat on the stool to his left. For some odd reason it made me instantly jealous. I wanted to be that brunette. I wanted to be the object of his attention, his laughter.
That smile…
“Send him one,” I said. I pushed another of France’s colorful bills forward, an orange one this time. “Know what? Send her one too.”
The drinks arrived, and they drank them. The guy didn’t even look up. He kept smiling, laughing, even flirting with the girl next to him. It was absolutely infuriating.
I should’ve moved on. Should’ve been thankful for the help in the alley, and not blown up whatever the guy had going on. I owed him that much at least. But being ignored — that just didn’t gel with me. It wasn’t my thing.
“Hey,” I said, grabbing the barkeep. “Send them some shots also.”
When the shots showed up they drank those too, toasting each other like they’d ordered them themselves. As far as the girl knew, maybe they had. She seemed nice enough, but totally oblivious.
He however, knew exactly what he was doing.
It turned into sort of a game: me staring hard at the guy who’d saved me in the alley, so much I thought he might burst into flames. And him doing his best to ignore me. So far he was winning. And I really, really hated to lose.
I decided the change tactics. I wanted patiently until the girl put her drink down on the bar. Then, as she worked to tie her hair back with a headband, I balled my right hand into a fist…
…and unclenched it by flicking my fingers outward, rapidly.
The glass sailed into her lap, splashing her drink everywhere. She jumped back in surprise, leaping from her bar stool, wiping with both hands at her chest.
That’s when the guy from the ally finally looked at me.
It wasn’t a dirty look, but it wasn’t a good one either. There was curiosity there, but also something else. It was almost a look of… well… of knowing.
That part made me uncomfortable. Here I was, screwing around when I ought to be laying low. Making a scene instead of melting into the crowd.
Getting worked up instead of relaxing. The little voice inside my head was relentless. Causing trouble when I really should be avoiding it…
The brunette left for the restroom, presumably to clean up. Her would-be suitor glanced over his shoulder to make sure she was gone, then stood up and made his way over to me.
He took the stool next to mine, turning right in to face me. His leg was touching my leg. His eyes — sky blue and every bit as beautiful as he was — locked onto my own.
“So…”
It was all he said. He dragged the word out, letting it trail off into nothing.
“So…” I went right back at him.
Verbally we were at a stalemate, but not at all when it came to body language. The pretty boy from the alley was definitely leaning into me, his hand practically brushing the outside of my thigh. His looks got even better up close. He had high cheekbones and smooth, unblemished skin. Full, soft-looking lips that made for a very kissable mouth.
“Where I come from,” I said matter-of-factly, “the men buy the women drinks. And not the other way around.”
He had an elbow on the bar now, his blonde hair pinned over one ear. It shimmered like corn silk. It looked too good to be real.
“And where I come from,” he said in a perfect American accent, “when someone owes you one, you usually pay up.”
My mouth almost went tight. I stopped it just in time.
“Oh? Is that right?”
“Sure is.”
He didn’t have a New York accent like mine, or one from anywhere in New England. It wasn’t southern either. Midwest maybe? Further out?
“And what makes you think—”
“Because I saved your ass in that alley,” my hero jumped in. He leaned in closer. “Who were those guys, by the way? Did you know them?”
He studied my expression, waiting on my answer. Waiting to see if I lied or not. That part was interesting.
“No,” I said, telling the truth. “No idea.”
He kept staring at me like he was trying to crack a safe. Or learn something. Maybe figure something out.
“So what were you doing out there?”
I drained the rest of my beer. “Running?”
“Really fucking fast too,” he added. He seemed impressed.
I shrugged, and he raised one hand and called for another round. As the bartender began pouring, I glanced over his shoulder. The brunette with glasses had finally come out of the bathroom. She looked for him, but only for a moment, then wandered back into a small circle of people.
“What about your girl back there?” I asked. “Isn’t she gonna be pissed that you’re over here talking to me?”
“Who, Claire?” He didn’t even look back. “She’s a friend, that’s all.”
“A friend, that’s all?” I repeated.
“Yup.”
It occurred to me he hadn’t looked away. His eyes were on mine still, his pale blue irises diving into my brown. As stupid as it sounded, I felt my heart beating faster. I was feeling a lot warmer, too.
“Sorry about your jacket,” I said, so I could shift my gaze legitimately onto his body. His shoulders really were amazing.
“Not a big deal.”
“And you’re right,” I finally admitted. “You did save my ass. I do owe you one.”
I allowed myself a smile and he smiled back, causing my stomach to do a somersault. That was it for me. The cherry on the top of the sundae. He didn’t just smile with his face, but with his whole spirit, all at once.
“It’s too nice an ass not to save,” he quipped, actually glancing down at my ass.
He looked back at me and the music stopped. The chatter, the clinking of glasses — everything around us was just gone. It was like time itself ground to a screeching halt, taking the whole bar with it.
“I’m Serena,” I said, extending one hand.
He ignored my hand. Still smiling, he responded by tilting my chin gently upward and pressing his lips against mine. I didn’t hesitate for an instant to kiss him back. Sparks flew, my face going flush as it felt like all the blood in my body rushed into my cheeks, all at once.
Holy shit.
My mind spun away wildly, taking every last thought along with it. All that existed was his hand against my face, soft yet firm, his tongue sexy and confident as it swept past my lips and swirled against my own. His mouth was sweet. Everything between us full of electricity, and passion, and promise.
“I’m Damien,” he said finally, as we broke apart.