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“Hey, fellas. You called?” I purr as I hold his gaze, a silent challenge in the air, like we’re playing a staring contest. His lips curl into a smirk and, just as he raises his glass to take a sip, I make my move.
I snatch the drink from his hand before it touches his lips.
Without breaking eye contact, I gulp down the entire contents, the burn of the alcohol hitting the back of my throat and making me grimace. I set the empty glass back on the table with a soft clink, winking at Dion.
Dion’s expression shifts from surprise to something like intrigue—something hot—his eyebrows lifting slightly before he leans back on the couch. “Well, that was unexpected,” he says, with a hint of amusement in his voice.
I glance at the empty seat next to him, then slide into the booth, the smooth fabric cool against my legs. “Thought you could use some company.” I tilt my head slightly, a playful grin on my lips.
Dion chuckles, shaking his head. “Bold move, Aria. I didn’t take you for the type.”
I ignore the annoying flip in my chest at hearing him say my name.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”. I lean in closer, resting my arm on the back of the couch.
Dion’s smirk widens as he signals the waitress for another drink, his eyes barely leaving mine. “So, what made you come to my table?”
I shrug. “Maybe I was bored. Maybe I wanted to see if you’re as interesting as you look.”
He laughs softly, the sound rich and warm. “And what’s the verdict so far?”
I pretend to ponder, tapping my chin with a finger. “The night’s still young. We’ll see.”
Dion’s gaze lingers on me. “Fair enough. Here’s to a night of surprises, then.”
The tension between us crackles, and I can feel the warmth of his body next to mine, a subtle reminder of the boldness of my move.
Suddenly, I’m hit with nerves like a ton of bricks. I’m not usually the shy type, but being this close to him—this stranger—is doing unexplainable things to me. My body is overheating.
I shift on the plush seat, heart hammering against my rib cage like a frantic bird desperate for escape. Beside me, Dion is a presence so powerful it sends shivers down my spine.
Every movement he makes seems calculated, deliberate, as though he knows exactly the effect he has on me. It’s dizzying.
My fingers find solace in the delicate fabric of my skirt, tracing the familiar path along the hem. I tug at it, looking down, a weak attempt to ground myself.
Dion places his palm on top of my hand, and the current of energy that courses through my veins almost suffocates me.
“What’s the matter, Aria? Nerves getting the best of you?” he remarks, his hand still touching mine. There’s a mischievous expression in his eyes.
I inhale a sharp breath. “No,” I utter indignantly, like a kid who just got caught doing something sneaky.
“Are you sure? You stormed over here, grabbed my drink like you owned the place, and now it seems you’re getting cold feet. For a second there, I thought you had guts.”
I struggle to keep my composure, still fiddling with my skirt.
“You’ll end up unthreading it if you keep twisting the fabric like that,” Dion says, looking down at my legs. I notice his gaze lingering a second too long. No matter how hard I try to stifle the heat that’s rising to my cheeks, I fail.
I quickly force myself to snap out of it—he’s just a smug asshole who doesn’t deserve my attention. His condescension fuels a spark of defiance in me. I jerk my hand away. “You’ve got jokes,” I deadpan. “Maybe I don’t need to prove anything to you. Maybe you don’t deserve a lick of my time.”
“There she is.” Something glints in his eyes, and I roll mine. He’s clearly enjoying this.
“There she is? You don’t even know me,” I retort. This man thinks he has me all figured out.
“Let’s change that.”
“How? You want to talk about our dreams and aspirations in the middle of a loud club?”
The pulsating lights cast shadows across Dion’s face, but I don’t miss how his lips curl into a smile. “I know somewhere quiet.”
