Page 3 of Vicious Little Darling

“Yeah, exactly,” she snorts. “You’re too much of a pretty boy for her, with your black hair, your green eyes and that annoyingly flawless jawline. You look as if you’re trying to be mysterious, but I bet you go home and spend hours on your Instagram photos.”

“Wow, really pegged me there,” I grunt, too intrigued byEmberto be worried about what Busty Betty has to say. I don’t have anInstagramaccount,let alone any social media. It makes me too accessible, and that’s the last thing you need when your hobby consists of stalking and murdering women.

“Asshole,” the waitress mutters under her breath as she finally walks away, leaving me there in my dark corner to watchEmber.What a fucking name. It sounds like something from some lame romcom. And the way she comes off unenthused by everyone, but confident as hell has me almost disgusted.

She’s nothing special.

But I still can’t seem to stop watching her.

Chapter Two

EMBER

The hair on the back of my neck stands on end as I take a sip of my IPA, but I brush the uneasy feeling off. It’s more than likely that some fucking creep is putting his eyes on me, but this is a bar, and bars always have a few sketchy individuals lurking in them. It’s nothing new, and it doesn’t bother me. I have pepper spray tucked away safely in my back pocket.

“Can you believe that Josh actually took the night off?” Megan says, her obviously fake red hair spilling over her shoulder as she pokes my best friend in the arm.

Josh shrugs, his dark brown eyes gleaming under the light. “I only did it for Ember. She says I don’t get out enough.”

I chuckle. “All I did was tell you the truth. You needed to take a night off from the bar and get out.”

“Just to show up at another one,” he teases me, shaking his head. Rich, the owner of the bookstore I work at, bursts into laughter along with Megan. I giggle, but the feeling of being watched still lingers, and I can’t shake it.

“You okay?” Megan, my friend and coworker at the bookstore, turns to me, her black brows furrowed. “You seem off.”

“I’m just tired,” I lie, deciding not to reveal my random onset of paranoia. I’m not one to question my instincts, but right now, I’m almost annoyed with myself.

“You ready to go then?” Josh throws it out there, eyeing Rich, who sits beside me. I don’t think Josh likes my boss for whatever reason, and he doesn’t interact with him much other than giving him a side-eye every now and then.

“Let me run to the bathroom and then we can go,” I say as I slide off my stool. “I don’t want to have to make a pit stop in an alley on the way home.”

“Gross, Ember. Seriously,” Megan makes a disgusted face. “Have a little class.”

“Hey, desperate times call for desperate measures,” I tease her, and then I head off for the restrooms just to my right. It’s a straight shot, only about ten feet from the table we are sitting at—but with every step towards it, a sick feeling washes over my body.

What the hell is wrong with me tonight?I shake my head at myself as I shove open the door to the ladies’ room, revealing a small, three-stall bathroom. I relieve myself quickly, wash my hands, and then pause in front of the mirrors to smooth out my hair. It’s frizzy, so I do my best to lay down the baby hairs that are flying everywhere. It’s a lost cause though, so after a few moments of trying, I give up.

I roll my shoulders before reaching for the door, and then I whip it open and step out into the little waiting area. However, I quickly realize that my exit is blocked by a tall, athletically built man with black hair and striking green eyes. He is wearing a crisp white button up and jeans, which—together with the fucking Rolex on his left wrist— scream money. Probably worth more than all my organs combined if sold on the black market.

“Um, excuse me,” I say, trying to slip by him.

He holds out a hand to stop me. “I’ve been watching you all night.”

Ahh, here’s the creep.

I sigh, brushing my hair out of my face. “That’s really not a good opening line, you know.”

“No, but it’s the truth. There’s just something about you, and I have a thing for girls who need saving.”

I raise my brows. “What is it about me makes you think I need saving?”

He rocks back on his heels. “Okay, maybe nothing. But seriously, I’m horrible at this. I saw you, and I think you’re pretty. You looked like you weren’t having a great time tonight. I could take you somewhere nicer—not even tonight. Maybe some other time.” His shoulders fall slightly, and for a second, I actually feel sorry for him, putting himself out there to hit on a girl like me.

“Honorable, really,” I fake a smile. “But I’m not interested.”

“Right, of course. I’m probably not your type,” he mutters as he finally steps to the side to let me through.

“No one is my type,” I say to him, patting his arm like he’s a poor little puppy, as I slip past. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not against a relationship, but Iamagainst dating some kind of rich, trust fund baby like whoever this guy is.

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