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“Theo, my darling! I am so glad you made your way downstairs. I’ll fetch you something to eat.” There is a small clop when she jumps off her stool and makes her way around the bar, patting Theo’s arm fondly as she passes him . Theo’s cheeks flame at the casual affection, and the roller coaster of emotions I seem to be on tonight takes a sharp turn, my stomach swooping.
“Don’t bother about me, I already ate,” his voice trails after her as she shoves open the heavy swinging kitchen door.
“Wasn’t a suggestion.” I chuckle at her sing-song reply as the door swings shut, adding a nice punch to her rejoinder. I nod to the stool he’d been tipped from that he is now hovering near, aware that there was now a long line forming at the bar I had to deal with.
“I really am sorry about that. I was—” I huff a breath and scrub a hand over my jaw, unsure how to explain my fit of possessive fury. Unable to find the words, I wave my hand, like I can just scrub the incident from existence.
Theo at least sits. He seems hesitant, but still, he parks that cute little butt of his on the stool and pulls out his book.The book I got him.
The roller coaster takes another swerve as an arrogant sort of pride makes my chest puff up a little that he enjoys my present, that I gave him something that no one else was able to.
Shaking my head again, I try to focus. “Never mind, anyway. I’m sorry. Did you want a drink or anything? Are you okay?” My hands are still clenching by my side, itching to grab Theo, to take him somewhere. Keep him safe. Check to make sure he’s not injured. Maybe kiss him better… shit. No. Wrong track.
As my thoughts stray and that possessive fire surges again, I take a half step towards him. His eyes track the movement like prey being hunted, and his lips part with a sharp inhaled breath, making me freeze and instantly pull back.Fuck. I’m scaring him. Aftereverythinghe’s been through, here I am blundering around him like a feral animal in heat. Theo’s eyes dart nervously down the bar towards the increasingly impatient beings waiting for me to finally give them my attention.
“Uh, I’m fine, Roan. Seriously. I’ll just have a water, whenever you’re free. No biggie.” I nod and tap my knuckles on the bar, reluctant to move away from him as he opens the book to the dog-eared page, already focused on the words in front of him.
“Right, well, you know where I am if you need me.” He doesn’t even look up, just waves his hand.
Summarily dismissed, I roll my shoulders, dust off the whole awkward encounter, and move over to the deal with my customers.
Theo
It takes Roan longerthan I thought it would to get back to me. I try to ignore him and focus on my book instead, but despite the protagonist, Ragomir, being in yet another deathly and horrifying jam, I can’t help getting sidetracked by the hunky barkeep and the way his leather harness strains across his chest when he moves about the bar, lifting heavy things and just generally being hot.
It’s distracting. Every so often, out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of him pouring a beer from the brass taps, his white shirt rolled to his elbows, solid forearms flexing as he holds the glass in his dexterous fingers.
It was bad enough during that sexy as f-I mean, completely feral and terrible display when I’d been knocked off my stool, but just watching the quietly confident way he goes about his work, the way he laughs and jokes with his customers, and his friends, it drives me a little crazy. I am more than a little afraid that if he dares to come over here and carry on our conversation, I’ll do something incredibly stupid, like pounce on him and rub myself all over him until we both cum.
But no doubt if I did, he would do something mortifying like set me somewhere safe and pat me on the head like the child he thinks I am. Someone weak. And in need of protection.And there goes my boner. Silver linings and all that.
As I pretend to read and instead watch him like the pathetic sap I am, I pick at the roast chicken dinner Mauvy delivered before disappearing to her rooms for the night. Apparently she lives above the guest rooms—didn’t even realise there was space up there.
The food is good—Mauvy’s food always is—which is saying a lot because our chef growing up had been trained in the finest kitchens around the world. But while Edouard’s food had been beautifully crafted delicacies, Mauvy’s food is different, homelier, cosier. It doesn’t just feed your body; it feeds your spirit. Maybe that’s her magic? She’s a faun after all.
My appetite is still really struggling since my rescue and living on Marieth’s gruel for far too long. So I really just push the chicken and vegetables around in the gravy. Nibbling at what I can while I force my eyes back to the words on the page andnotto devouring Roan as he throws back his head and lets out a booming laugh at whatever the hot vampire falling all over herself at the bar is saying to him. I’m not even sure if he swings that way, but it still raises my hackles.
Before, before I lost my gift and my fae magic, I would have been able to make the glass of blood teetering in her hand spill over the cleavage currently attempting to bust out of the lace of her top.
But Ican’t, and the reminder flames something even pettier and more childish inside me.
Which obviously makes it the perfect time for Roan to make his way over to me. It takes every ounce of my pitiful self control to keep my eyes on my book. I must’ve read the same sentence a dozen times, but I still have no idea what the words on the pagemean because Roan has completely invaded my space, sparking electricity across my skin.
He leans across the bar, elbows resting on the wooden surface. He’s so close that his hair brushes my cheek, his breath fanning across my hands. The spicy scent ofhimblending with the hoppy smell of the beer he’s been serving is not something I ever thought would be erotic, but here we are.
My breath shudders from my lips as I try desperately to rein in my thundering heartbeat. He is so close—tooclose; the need to say something, to poke at him and push him—and thistoo bigfeeling—away, surges within me, but he has scrambled my brain, turning me into a mindless idiot.
I pray to the Gods that he doesn’t notice how my hands tremble when I fold over the corner of my book to mark my page—something Darius always badgered me over.
The reminder of my quasi-ex, and the fact that I should probably get in contact with him and the entirety of my old life like Tor reminded me this morning, is enough to reset my equilibrium and gain back some of my sanity.
“What are you doing?” The words are harsher than I intended, and Roan stills for a moment. Regret needles me, especially when he withdraws, taking in my scowl and countering it with a cheeky grin that seems to make his dark eyes a little brighter.
“Just grabbing a little snack.” He nabs a nut from my discarded half filled bowl and tosses the thing in his mouth. I try not to be jealous of the salty little treat, but my patheticness knows no bounds as I watch him lick the salt from his lips. “I’ve been busy.”
I slide the book closer to myself, tugging it close to my chest and hugging it tight, to keep my hands from doing something stupid.
“I noticed. It’s a busy night.” Is that asqueakin my voice? Smooth, Theo, smooth. Gods.
