Page 60 of Heat & Deceit
Lycus smirks at me over the rim of his glass. He takes a sip of the amber liquid, eyes slipping over my face. He’s wearing a dark-green Henley that hugs his chest and showcases his tattoos. I try not to stare at his ink as I come up with an answer to his question.
“I’m picking up food.”
“Likely excuse,” he says, leaning closer to whisper, “Honestly, I’m glad you showed up. Saved me from an awful date.”
“I’m back!” A woman appears, glossed lips twisting into a sneer. She puts her face only a few inches from mine. “That’s my seat.”
Holy olive breath.
“Oh, sorry.”
“No, stay,” Lycus says, hand dropping to my coat-covered forearm. His glassy eyes plead with me not to move. He’s drunk.
“Are you serious right now?” the woman asks.
Given what Lycus told me about his dating adventures, she’s presumably omega—it’s hard to tell with how much she’s been drinking and all the scents inside the restaurant colliding together.
“Very.” Lycus drains his drink and turns to the woman. “It was lovely to meet you. I hope you find the right pack for you.”
Hurt flashes across her face right before it contorts with anger. She reaches past me and snatches the water cup I pushed away and tosses what’s left of it at his face. Lycus’s eyes snap closed right before the liquid splashes him, like he was anticipating the move.
“Hey!” The bartender storms toward us. “You,” he says to the bad date. “I’m tabbing you out.”
“He’s paying my tab.” She jerks her thumb in Lycus’s direction, then turns toward me. “Enjoy my leftovers.”
“We only shook hands,” Lycus tells me, suddenly very serious. “I think leftovers, at the very least, require dry humping, don’t you?”
I don’t respond, looking anywhere but at him. I only wanted to get my food and go home and binge a show. Dealing with Lycus wasn’t in the cards.
“You’re a dick,” the omega mutters, stomping to the door.
“So I’ve been told,” Lycus mutters to himself.
“Actually, I called you an asshole,” I tell him.
He chuckles. “That too.”
“You’re cut off too.” The bartender leans his hands on the counter. “Time to tab out.”
“Fine, fine. I have whiskey at home.” Lycus pulls out his wallet, fumbles, and drops it. “Well, that’s obnoxious.” He stares longingly at the floor.
Sighing, I hop off my stool. “I’ll get it.”
“Don’t let her fool you. That tongue of hers is wicked.” Lycus’s fingers flutter over the back of my head as I grab the wallet.
“Dude, I don’t want to hear that,” the bartender says.
My cheeks heat as I stand. “Here.” I look at the bartender. “I have a pickup order.”
“What’s the name?” He keeps his eyes glued to Lycus, narrowing them when Lycus tosses the card onto the counter.
“Carmine.”
“You know this guy?” Finally, the bartender glances at me.
“Oh, she knows me,” Lycus says, dropping his arm on my shoulder. “Shelovesme.”
I shove him off and glare at him. “If by love, you mean find you obnoxiously annoying, then yes.” Turning back to the bartender, I roll my eyes, but the guy simply stares, waiting for a real answer. I can’t blame him for being irritated with the situation. “I know him.”
