“Then he just fainted,” Eva Louise Torres said, laughing with her friends, Melody and Una. She called the waitress over for another drink and gulped that one down as soon as it arrived.
She was searching for the waitress to order her sixth – seventh? – one when a deep voice said, “You should slow down. That can’t possibly be wise.”
She laughed. It wasn’t, but when you’d just been dumped by your fiancé, the expected reaction was to drown your sorrows in booze. Never mind that she couldn’t actually get drunk, her friends expected it of her. Plus, she was hoping to make a quick escape, which meant drinking fast.
“It’s not,” she replied, “but I’m not trying to be wise tonight.”
“Well, in that case, want to dance?” Dance with me. The guy smiled down at her and she had a brief sense of vertigo.
Shaking her head, she jumped off the barstool. “Sure. We can dance.”
Eva loved dancing. As far as she was concerned, it was the cure for everything, including a broken heart. When she started moving, the pulse of the rhythm felt like a second heartbeat. She was free in those moments.
Free to think about Glasgow without the emotional overload of a broken heart. He was an amazing artist and orator; he was charismatic and driven, but those were the qualities of a good leader, not a good husband. She’d fallen for him because of his street art and his wild notions of government and his passionate speeches and his beautiful azure blue eyes. But would she have been happy? She smiled at her current dance partner and decided she wouldn’t think about her fiancé – no, ex-fiancé – anymore.
They danced three fast songs before the DJ put on something slow and mellow. The guy, whose name she still didn’t know, raised a brow in question and she answered by placing her arms around his neck and pulling him close. The moment their bodies touched, she felt a shiver run through her. She pressed her body into his, feeling like she had to get as close as possible to him. She looked up at him and cocked her head.
He gazed at her, a curious smile on his face. “Who are you?”
“I’ll be anyone and anything you want. For tonight anyway.” He may be able to help her do what all the alcohol couldn’t – make her forget Glasgow. She glanced at the clock above the bar. “It’s twenty minutes ‘til last call.”
He grinned. “I’ll get us another drink.” Stay here.
She felt it again, the need to do what he wanted. Like a gentle pull at her will. Witch, she thought. Spending her summers with Siobhan had taught her many things, one of which was how to know when a witch was messing with your head.
Eva walked over to her friends and smiled, “I’m going home with him.”
Mel raised an eyebrow, “Do you even know his name, Eva?”
Eva blinked at her. She had no idea. “Don’t see how it matters.” Una and Mel both laughed.
“Whatever girl. Just be careful. And call us in the morning! If you don’t, we will call Dre.” Una said this sternly, although she still had half a smile on her face. Dre was 18 now and cuter than ever and Una had a thing for him. She snorted, it was disgusting how good looking her twin brothers were.
Eva rolled her eyes. Her friends meant well but she could take care of herself. More than they knew and the last thing she needed was for Dre to get all werewolf-y and territorial on a total stranger. She leaned down and gave her friend a kiss on the cheek. “Not necessary, I’ll be careful.”
An arm wrapped around her waist and his voice whispered in her ear, “I thought I told you to stay put.”
She shivered yet again. It was a reproach, not a question. And he hadn’t actually told her to do anything, had he?
She turned in his arms and wrapped her own around his neck. He smiled down at her and she felt her entire body heat up. Not just a witch, but a seducer. This was going to be a fun night.
He leaned down to kiss her and she let him get close enough to almost touch her lips before putting a hand up to stop him. She stroked his cheek while he opened his eyes. He had such express eyes. She may not be able to bend another’s will like he could, but she could still play the game.
“Not here,” she whispered against his lips, “Home.” He smiled and nodded.
Since they were going to her place, Eva gave her car keys to Melody and made sure to stumble and laugh and do what people should do after drinking their weight in booze – act drunk.
He settled her in his car, gazing at her as if to make sure she was real, and after asking for the address, drove to her home.
When they reached her loft, she opened her door and stepped back, letting him take in her apartment. When he whistled, she grinned. Yeah, she loved it too.
“This is a very nice place you got here.” He walked towards the couches clustered in one corner of the big open spaced living room.
“Thank you.” She was going for demure, but he wasn’t fooled. “You want something to drink?”
“No, I’m good.” He followed her into the kitchen anyway. When he stopped in front of her, she took in a breath and held it. He looked down at her and played with a strand of her hair. She felt each tug down in her stomach, like somehow those few tendrils were connected directly to the most sensitive parts of her body.
He leaned down and kissed her. But that was such an inappropriate word. Eva’s knees grew weak at the touch of his lips on hers and she had to throw her arms around his neck to hold herself up. As if he felt the same way, he walked forward until they hit the kitchen wall and pulled her up and onto his body. He deepened the kiss, his mouth devouring hers and she sighed.
Best. Kiss. Ever.
Finally pulling away to breathe, he asked her for the second time, “Who are you?”
She gave a throaty laugh, still struggling to breathe in enough oxygen. “For tonight? I’m all yours.”