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I pout, but the way Xander shakes beneath me, I know he’s holding himself back with every ounce of strength. So instead I nod and roll my face into his palm, enjoying the way he’s so warm against the cooling breeze as the sun begins to set.

“How does homemade pizza sound for dinner?” He asks.

I tilt my head, wondering where on earth that question came from, when my stomach decides to take part in the conversation, grumbling and gurgling loudly. We both laugh and I don't think I've ever had such a wonderful afternoon in my life.

Chapter Eight

Noah

It’s about time I visit Tyler.

Time has flown since my date with Xander at the lake. And I still find myself giddy with a stupid smile smeared across my lips. I’m even humming far more frequently, like back when I was in high school. I’d always have some kind of music playing, and if I didn't, I was singing.

After the many tumultuous years with Richard, who had made it very clear he liked peace and quiet, I'm only now getting comfortable humming around Xander or singing quietly in the shower. Yet with the knowing smile Xander usually gives me when I'm walking down the stairs with my hair in a towel wrap, I know he can hear me. And not once has he asked me to stop.

In fact, he’s made it blatantly obvious that I have his heart. With a new bouquet of flowers for each one that's begun to wilt, Xander has managed to fill my room and the living room with all the things I could wish for.

Like a bookshelf teeming with all of my favorite authors and some I'm yet to discover. As well as a brand-new writing desk and chair in my room that’s been decorated with all kinds of plants and knick-knacks. Yet I still haven't sat at it. It’s not because I don't want to but because every time I pull the chair out, I simply look at it wondering if it really is mine to have.

I’d asked him why he’d ordered such a thing, and his reply left me speechless.

“Because you sighed in discomfort,” he replied.

I shake my head at the memory as I stride into The Oracle’s Roast feeling more alive than ever. The cafe is bustling with customers, and the showcase has been freshly topped up with colorful pastries and tarts.

As I line up at the end of the short queue, I catch the first glimpse of my friend who is rushing around the counter, taking orders and restocking cupboards and shelves. His apron is dusted with powdered sugar, and his hair looks like he’s running his fingers through it as it spikes up at a strange angle.

The queue moves quickly, and before I know it I find myself standing before Tyler. His smile is sheepish, and his eyes carry a slight darkness that is different from the last time I saw him. I shiver at the memory of how they rolled into the back of his head.

“Noah!” Tyler bends down to pull out a few raspberry tarts and plates them before tapping away at the screen in front of him. I know he’s ordering me the same as last time. “How have you been?”

I pull out my wallet to pay. “Good. Great, actually. I wanted to come by and see how you’re doing?”

His smile falters, and for a moment his eyes glaze over before they snap back into focus. It’s so quick I nearly miss it. Yet without another word, Tyler turns to look over his shoulder to ask his co-worker for a break. With a nod of approval, he undoes his apron and turns for the kitchen.

“Let’s find somewhere to sit.”

My stomach plummets at the coldness in his voice. It’s like he’s a completely different person, and I swallow back the bubble of worry. Taking a breath, I take my plate of tarts and my coffee and find the nearest table. But before my ass can touch the seat, a cloud of darkness blurs in the corner of my eye.

Instinctively, I find myself looking in that direction to find a brooding, hulkingly large man with tattoos covering every inch of his exposed skin sitting at a corner table. Dark lines mark his forearms and reach all the way under his chin. And his ears are decorated with tiny barbells and hoops.

His eyes are dark as he watches me with hooded brows and a shiver of fear runs down my spine. Despite his clearly obvious presence, not a single customer seems to notice the strange man aggressively skulking in the corner.

The door to the kitchen opens as Tyler strides into the cafe with a wrapped sandwich in one hand. I manage to find my seat as he takes one opposite me, blocking my line of sight from the man. It makes my skin crawl. But the look Tyler gives me has the sounds of the cafe disappearing around us.

“I wanted to apologize for the night at the club.” He bites his lower lip. “I need to tell you something, and you’ll need to swear not to tell a soul beyond this town.”

I nod and swallow against my dry throat.

With shaky hands, Tyler undresses his sandwich, pulling the bread apart and picking at a slice of tomato before removing it entirely and pushing it to the side, before closing it up again. “I’m clairvoyant. I can see the past and the future. Mainly the past, but at the club I had this vision of your future…” His voice breaks, but his eyes burn with determination. “I needed to warn you.”

My brows furrow. I’ve heard of clairvoyants before, yet the more I look at Tyler, the more I realize just how truthful he might be. From knowing my order without asking the very first time we met to the way he looks at me now. As if he’s looking right through me. I guess if it weren't for knowing Xander is a vampire, I'd probably think he was lying.

“What did you see?” I ask, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

Tyler lowers his sandwich, his face grows pale, and an audible growl erupts from the table behind him. Tyler’s eyes dart over his shoulder, and he physically relaxes as a subtle smile creeps across his lips.

Sucking in a deep breath, he turns back to me with a determined look. “I saw you die.”