Page 3 of His Dark Vices

"No, don't worry about it. I can pick something up after my meeting ends. In two hours."

Twist the knife, why don't you?!

I groan and cover my face, feeling worse by the second.

"Just pay me back later if you feel that bad," he says with a laugh.

He's the one who just had his lunch ruined, but he's in a much better mood than I am. I look helplessly at the half-eaten avocado toast, then back to him.

"Later?" I repeat dumbly, confused.

He starts backing away. "I'll let you treat me when I see you again. You come here often, right? Or maybe I'll see you around."

By the way he grins at me, I get the feeling that he's teasing me about something other than the food. I want to ask what he means, but he's already waving and walking away, forcing this resolution into my hands. I start after him but quickly stop. It's useless to press the issue any further for now. I'll just make a bigger nuisance out of myself.

But what did he mean about seeing me around? Do I know him from somewhere?

I drop heavily and uselessly back into the booth, tugged down by negative emotion. The avocado toast has now lost all its appeal. I can't look up, either. I'm too afraid I'll catch a worker's mocking eye. Or worse—that a manager is rushing over to kick me out for stealing food from his customer.

So much for my little ritual.

I continue to sit and stew, the smell of the offensive food turning my stomach. This is supposed to be my comfort place. Now it's sullied by my entitlement, and I couldn't even make it right. How am I supposed to feel comfortable coming back here? The employees are probably laughing at me in the back.

"Whatever!" I say out loud with finality.

Nearby diners look in my direction, no doubt noting that I'm sitting here alone, talking to myself. But I don't care. It's ridiculous to keep ruminating when I tried to fix the issue. Yeah, so, I embarrassed myself. I look like a jerk, and I made a guy go hungry before his meeting or whatever.

We all make mistakes!

Somehow, that excuse doesn't comfort me the way I thought it would.

I gather my things in defeat and shuffle shamefully out of the Cozy Cup. Warmly and with enthusiasm that feels a little thick, the woman behind the front counter sings goodbye.

Instead of giving her my middle finger, I give a half wave and duck my head lower, resolving to put this mess behind me.

It's not like I'll be seeing that guy again anyway.

CHAPTER 2

Sam

Four Years Ago

"Mr. Green, this is going to be on the exam."

If I had a dime for every time the professor has said these exact words to me, I'd be rich.

"I'm listening, Professor Perry," I assure him, my eyes focused on the girl next to me.

She was grinning and squirming in her seat a few moments ago, but now she's looking away, icing me out with her body language. Guess she doesn't like my attention when the professor is looking at us.

It doesn't matter. I already hit that weeks ago. I just wanted to know how she would react if I suddenly stopped ignoring her.

Eager for my attention, that's how.

And now she has the nerve to pretend like she wasn't just preening for me.

I can help her with that bad memory.

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