Page 28 of Seer
His eyebrows went up. “Okay. Um....” He looked me up and down, but I got more of a curious vibe than a judgy one. Heeven grinned a little when he read my t-shirt. “Can I give him your name?”
“Cal,” I said flatly.
His eyes went wide. Craig was in on the fucking game.
He glanced around the lobby, then he said, “Come with me.” He gestured me through a little half-gate to get behind the counter, and I followed him through a doorway. We made a sharp right, and he opened another door.
Walking inside, he said, “Cal’s here.”
A voice squawked, “What?”
Craig held the door open for me, and I went past him into the office. An empty chair was in front of a desk covered in a mess of papers and dog toys. The other desk was pristinely neat with only an open laptop dead center. That desk’s chair was filled with the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.
He was movie star-quality gorgeous. Thick dark brown hair fell in careless yet perfect waves to just below his ears. His eyes were a startlingly light gray, offset by perfectly arched dark eyebrows. His nose was blade-straight, as were the edges of his jawline. His body was lean; no extra meat on those bones. His biceps popped out from under the sleeves of his polo, and corded muscles strained in his forearms where they gripped the arms of his chair.
He was so attractive my brain surrounded him with a kind of aura of sparkles, as if instead of a second self, Greg Shaw had glitter.
In an instant, I was flooded with a combination of yearning, body shame, and defensiveness. Greg Shaw might be the prettiest man in Texas, but he’d never want someone who looked like me. And I’d learned a long time ago that prettypeople couldn’t be trusted. They all figured out at a young age how to use their looks to get what they wanted.
And Greg Shaw’s slightly curled lip as he examined me made it obvious that I was absolutely not whathewanted.
No matter. As long as he helped me find the winged woman before it was too late, I didn’t care how much of an asshole he was.
ON THE TEXAS ADVENTURERS DISCORD SERVER
SUNDAY, MARCH 26 AND MONDAY, MARCH 27
Greg_DM_Central_TXMarch 26 at 1:34pm
@everyoneIf you run into Cal, the new Cassandra, do NOT interact with him. We’re not sure what happened, but we need to do some damage control.
Also, if you had a conversation with Cal anytime Friday through this morning, please message me privately. You are NOT in trouble. We just want to understand what he knows and doesn’t know before we approach him again.
Delphia_Leader_TWISTMarch 27 at 5:49am
[replying toGreg_DM_Central_TX] Please call me ASAP.
CHAPTER 9
GREG
I wasn’tproud of my first reaction to Cal Steadham.
I should’ve been professional, should’ve stood up to greet him with an apology and a smile, put him at his ease so we could talk.
Instead I gaped at him. For—I am not kidding—almost a full minute.
And I know this is true because Craig told me later how excruciating it was for him to stand there calling my name as I stared at Cal with my mouth hanging open.
He was amazing.
And he was appalling.
Physically he was everything I secretly dreamed of in a man. I’d seen his photo already, but it didn’t do him justice. His face was stunning. Not conventionally handsome but riveting. His dark hair and beard, round cheeks and plush lips—those were lovely, but not as enthralling as those brown eyes blazing with magic and innate charisma. He was tall and strong, but soft enough I could tell he’d give hugs to die for. Iwanted him to pick me up and hold me so I could revel in the resonance thrumming between us.
Except.
Except I couldn’t ignore the way he was a little too unkempt, like he didn’t care how he walked through the world. His overgrown hair, the untrimmed beard. The coffee stain on his t-shirt. And who wears a t-shirt that says, “Moist”? His dirty, ancient Converse. The ratty backpack with a broken strap hanging down.
