Page 28 of Hunt You Down

“You haven’t failed me yet.”

Trust. That was the new thing I was trying, wasn’t it? Hell, if I trusted this man to bring me to another state to keep me safe, then he could order my food for me.

Besides, not having to think about it was quite refreshing.

With food ordered and two cold drinks sitting in front of us, André took my hand across the table. I hadn’t missed the longing glances from the boy who’d sat us, and he was watching us now. “I feel really bad about leaving you on your own in the apartment,” André said, stroking over the back of my hand.

“I can manage. It’s nothing I haven’t done before—I can always busy myself with chores or something.”

“I know, but those things can’t be fun. Don’t you have any hobbies?”

Not anymore. Instead of saying that out loud, though, I smiled fondly. “I used to paint. I was really good at it.” I’d had a studio at one point—before Regan decided I needed my own bedroom. Then everything in it was trashed. It would have been too expensive to replace everything. Besides, Regan monopolized most of my attention those days. “I didn’t have much time for it after I graduated.”

Almost as if he knew, André dropped the subject.

Thankfully, the meal gave us a distraction. Between my large chicken salad and André’s monster of an Italian sandwich, we had plenty to do other than talk.

When the bill was dropped off, we argued over that. I didn’t have much, but I did have something. And I was adamant over not being kept, feeling like I needed to assert that dominance wherever I could.

André relented in the end, and the server swept my card away.

As we left, the boy from before caught our attention. “I just wanted to say, you two make a cute couple. I hope I can find that someday.”

Blushing, I ducked my head and André tanked him. With that man next to my side, I felt like I was sixteen again. Only, I was the person that sixteen-year-old me wanted to be.

Back at his apartment, André didn’t hesitate to pour two generous shots from the bottle in the freezer.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, handing one of them over.

The chill from the bourbon penetrated the glass and froze my fingers. A warm, woodsy scent floated up from the liquid, hinted with cinnamon. “I’m sure. You go first?”

André flashed me that blinding smile. “And give you the opportunity to pour it out? Not a chance.”

“And I thought I had trust issues,” I grumbled.

With a pointed look, André set his shot aside. He sauntered closer, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me flush against him. Bourbon sloshed in my glass, kicking up another wave of spicy sweetness. “Close your eyes.”

I did, as if my body knew nothing more than to obey him. Pressure on my hand, and he guided it to my lips. The bourbon made my nose burn.

“Take it all at once,” he instructed. “No chaser.”

My lips touched cold glass, and I didn’t get a chance to protest. André tipped it back for me, cool, spicy liquid flooding my mouth. I sputtered, but André held my mouth shut.

“Swallow, baby.”

My throat burned and my entire body protested, but then the icy liquid trickled down my throat, warmth coursing through my veins and heating my skin. My eyes watered, and I brushed away the tears forming there.

“How do you feel?” André asked, wiping away a drop that escaped my mouth.

Once I was confident the shot would stay down, I took a deep breath. My lips tingled, bordering on numbness. “Warm.”

With a wicked grin, André necked his own shot, swiftly dipping down to kiss the remnants of mine off my mouth. His tongue prodded for entry, and I happily dropped my jaw, humming. I much preferred that method.

André left the kiss brief, much to my dismay. “You want another shot?”

“I’d much rather keep licking it off your lips.” Damn that hit quick.

The deep, rumbling chuckle that drove me wild vibrated my chest. André grabbed the bottle, along with both our glasses and led me out to the terrace.