Page 9

“So, how’s Gus?” I ask Bea. She shrugs.

“He’s energetic, and Luther, well, he’s next-level with the dance moves. Good call on the stronger drink. I think you just might need it.”

“I’m gonna kill you.” My warning earns a smile.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” And I know she will.

“Here we are, ladies. Two poison apples.” He sits down the tall shot glasses that I swear are glowing green, with blood-red liquid floating on top, complete with smoke.

“Sounds delicious.” Bea picks her up.

“Looks deadly,” I joke. “What’s in this?”

“If I told you, I would have to kill you.” He winks. “Apple vodka, mostly. The rest is a secret family recipe.” He tells us with a mischievous. “It turns boys into men and good girls wicked.”

“It’s perfect, then.” Bea raises her glass to mine.

“To another trip around the sun.” I clink mine with hers and down the liquid in one swift swallow, expecting it to taste horrid, but it’s surprisingly delicious. At first, it’s sour, like green apples, then sweet like caramel, and the afterburn is almost like cinnamon.

“Wow.” I wipe my finger around my mouth, careful not to smudge my lipstick, enjoying the way my lips tingle from the aftershock.

“Wow is right!” Bea slams her empty glass on the bar.

“One more?” I ask Bea, and the song changes.

“Ohhh! My song! You go ahead, Addie.” She smiles toward alpha boy salivating at her dancing her way back to him.

“Addie?” a deep voice asks from a few stools down.

I look over at the stranger, a familiar feeling of uneasiness seeping into my bones. The déjà vu that’s been following me around is back like a magnet, pushing and pulling. Disorienting me.

“I’m sorry, do I know you? From campus, maybe?” I ask, trying to figure out where I would know him from. I can’t help but feel like I should remember his hypnotic gaze. But his roguishly handsome face isn’t familiar. All sharp angles and piercing black eyes that demand my attention. It might be my imagination but the way he’s looking at me makes me think that he knows me

“No. I’m not from around here.” He looks around before focusing his gaze back on me.

“I just overheard your friend call you by name earlier.”

“She’s the only one that calls me that.” His stare holds mine, waiting for an explanation, apparently. “Short for Adelaide.”

His stubble-covered chin lifts in a nod. “It suits you… The proper name. You don’t really look like a nickname kind of girl.”

His offhanded comment bothers me more than it should. Why shouldn’t I have a nickname?

I try to imagine what he sees. Black hair, painted red lips, pale skin… and average hazel eyes.

The barkeep sits another shot in front of me. Normal, overthinking, and second-guessing me would think twice about taking it. But the me that wants to forget… or just maybe remember… picks it up, and this time, I savor it. Slowly. From the first tingle on my swollen red lips to the warmth that spreads through my body with each tiny sip.

“Careful, those things can be deadly,” he warns with no hint of joking in his raspy voice. A voice that should scare me, but it has the opposite effect as warmth spreads lower in my body.

My witty response is slow, replaced by stunned silence, and when my fuzzy brain catches up to my mouth, I look up, and he’s gone. Too bad.

I think the music might be fast, but in my head, it’s slow. I can feel my heartbeat, a steady pulsating melody, as I move through the crowd of bodies to find Bea dancing.

“Hey! There you are.” She smiles and waves me over. I feel a little woozy but not so out of it that I don’t see Luther coming at me like a torpedo.

“Hey, Addie.” He puts his hands out to steady me, gripping my hips. “Wanna dance?” His touch feels all wrong.

“I’m good.” I step back and stumble. I’m going to fall.