Page 8 of Fanged Desire
I moved to meet her in the middle, approaching with the same confident stride I always relied on. But I barely breathed at all, not until I was right in front of her, practically bursting with an anticipation I could barely contain.
The words were out of my mouth before I could rethink them.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
Chapter 4
Kinsley
She was there, like she had been so many nights before.
I saw her the moment I stepped off stage, pulse still thrumming from the performance. The woman who had been occupying my thoughts far too often lately. She was standing near the bar, watching with that same quiet intensity, dark eyes zeroing in on me like I was the only person in the room. The corners of my lips quirked into a smile before I could think better of it, and then quickly straightened out again.
It would be easier to just wave, acknowledge her presence, and move on. She hadn’t come closer since that first night, hadn’t cashed in on that private session I promised her. I had made up my mind that I would not go pursuing strangers, enticing as they may be, when I had a missing person to find. But I hadn’t expected her to keep her distance too. A petty part of me wanted to beat her at her own game.
But something traitorous inside me tugged in the opposite direction.
My feet carried me toward her before I could second-guess myself. I weaved through the crowd, heart picking up speed along with my step as I approached the bar. She moved too, closer to me, something I hadn’t anticipated. When I finally reached her I opened my mouth, ready to say something – anything – but she beat me to it.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
She said it abruptly, tone calm and casual, as though she hadn’t just disarmed me before I’d gotten a word in edgeways.
I blinked, momentarily off-balance by the directness.
“I – you. Yeah, sure,” I managed, pulse stuttering under that unwavering stare.
I wanted to ask her where she’d been, why her coat looked crisper than usual, why the buttons of her shirt were closed up to her throat, rather than splayed open like she usually wore them. I wanted to know why she hadn’t spoken a word to me since that first night.
But before the conversation could go any further, Ethan materialized beside me, grinning like the devil himself.
“Well, look who it is,” the blond dancer crooned, eyes flicking between the two of us with obvious amusement. “Kinsley’sbeautifulreturn client.”
I shot him a look that would have silenced most people, but Ethan was unfazed. He raised his hands in mock surrender, but his grin didn’t falter. “Come on, K, I’ve been dying to meet this particular case of tall, dark, and mysterious.”
He turned his attention to Hunter, eyes narrowing though his smile stayed firmly in place. “I’ve seen you hanging around the bar for weeks. Have you taken a liking to our dear Kinsley?”
Mortified, I felt my cheeks flush, peppering my next words with a bit of bite. “Ethan, I think I left an excuse to leave somewhere over there. Would you mind fetching it for me?”
I had partnered up with the skinny stripper back when I first learned of Penelope’s disappearance. Ethan had gotten me the job at the club, shown me the ropes, and snooped around the underbelly of the city in search of any news of Penelope. He was a friend, a confidante, and a damn good dancer. But in that moment, he was also a pain in the ass.
“All right, all right. I’ll leave you two to… chat.” He gave Hunter a wink that was anything but friendly before sauntering off again.
Hunter watched him go, cool eyes tracking his departure before she gestured after him. “Friend of yours?”
I caught the subtle question within the question and quickly shook my head. “Ethan? Yeah, he’s a friend. And colleague. He’s also very, very gay.” I added the last part with a quick smile, feeling a little silly at how eager I was to make that distinction.
Hunter raised an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Good to know.”
I cleared my throat, trying to suppress the sudden flutter in my stomach. I shouldn’t have been feeling… whatever that was. I had a mission. Penelope. The name lingered in the back of my mind like a ghost, a needling reminder to keep my guard up.
But it was hard to ignore the way the other woman looked at me.
“So… a drink?” Hunter asked again as the bartender approached, though her eyes stayed fixed on me.
“Yeah,” I agreed, voice a little softer, a smile creeping across my lips despite my hesitation. “A drink sounds good.”
I settled on a stool beside her and let her order for the both of us, acutely aware of the tension in that close proximity – a tension that seemed to grow with every passing second.
