She shakes her head lightly. ‘You look younger, that’s all. I thought you were nearer my age.’
‘Which is?’
‘Twenty-six.’
I hum proudly in response. Hey, I’m not immune to a compliment here and there. ‘Must be down to my religious use of sunblock.’
Among other things.
We fall into step then, over the bridge and up the small hill at the other side. It’s dark here at this time of night and, once we reach the cobbled streets, I hold one crooked elbow out to her to guide her on the uneven surface. She slips her hand into it with a shy smile, and something inside me jumps at the contact as I tuck her in against me. It’s a little cooler on this side of the harbour, and I can just feel her shivering through her jacket as the sea breeze rushes through the gaps between the buildings.
‘You’re cold.’ I frown as I say it, like it’s somehow my fault, but I don’t always notice temperature. And it’s not like I’m in charge of the weather.
She doesn’t look at me as she smiles. ‘I’m always cold.’
There’s an almost imperceptible pull in my chest then– some small flicker of protectiveness. ‘I’ll make you a hot drink once we get inside,’ I say, and I don’t miss how that makes her hand tighten on my arm just a little, nor how much I like it.
It’s a strange dynamic, walking back to the cottage like this. It should be quite an awkward situation– we’re barely more than strangers, and Lucy’s actively researching my business for a story– but it doesn’t feel like that. It feels like the end of a date, particularly when she turns to face me, just as we reach the archway to the annexe, and says, ‘I had fun tonight.’
If this were a date– if I werehuman– I’d lean in to kiss her right now. She looks incredible there, against the warm glow of the streetlight, colour bitten into her cheeks by the wind, which has also tugged more wisps of blonde out from her updo. I imagine that if I did, my lips would find the faint taste of gin and sea salt on hers.
But it isn’t a date, and I most definitely am not still human, so I straighten, remind myself of all the reasons I can’t kiss her, and smile broadly at her instead.
‘I did too.’
It’s true. Bitten is more than a business to me– it’s my heart and soul. I’m not sure I’ll ever get over the fact that I get to work with my best friends, in my own bar, serving my kind of people, but tonight was more than that. It was catching Lucy’s eye over the riot of black lipstick and whatever-coloured hair. It was introducing her to the guys afterwards. It was the small tug in my chest at noticing her there, over and over, standing out like a beautiful, softly spoken, pastel-coloured thumb.
She shivers again, a little more violently this time, and at the sight of it I whisk her under the arch and tap in the door code. The small groan of pleasure that slips out of her as we tumble into the warmth of the annexe is absolutely not safe for work, and it shoots a dart straight down my spine, every nerve ending standing to attention.
I clear my throat and kick off my boots, heading into the kitchen area.
‘Tea?’ I ask, hoping that my voice sounds halfway normal and not as thick and lust-addled as it feels. ‘Coffee? Or I can probably rustle up a hot chocolate.’
Her eyes widen. ‘A hot chocolate would be amazing. Thank you.’
I ignore the rush of feeling in my chest as I watch her curl up on the sofa, and busy myself with making us both a warm drink. It doesn’t matter how pretty she looks right now, with her rosy cheeks and that oversized jumper slipping off one shoulder, I’m not good for her. So the next thing out of my mouth shocks me every bit as much as I imagine it shocks her. More, probably.
‘I don’t know what your plans are for tomorrow,’ I hear my voice say, going completely rogue, ‘but if you need a goth guide to show you the sights, let me know.’
Idiot.
I hear her blow out a little breath. She sounds pleased, or relieved, or something like that.
‘That would actually be really fun,’ she replies. ‘I was planning to just have a wander around, but a personalised tour by a local would be amazing.’
I want to kick myself and high-five myself at the same time. I definitely shouldn’t be doing this, but I also can’t wait. And hey, if Sammi tells me off, I’ll just tell her it was my chance to talk up Bitten a little more. Because that’s what I’m doing. Nottrying everything I can to be close to this beautiful, unattainable creature.
Because that would be a terrible idea.
And we all know I’m the king of those.
Chapter Nine
LUCY
It’s almost ten on Saturday morning when I push through the door of Black Rock Tea Rooms, and I’m immediately hit by the sweet smell of coffee and freshly baked cakes. I order a raspberry tea and a slice of Victoria sponge and take a seat by the window, looking out over the harbour.
I can see the cottage from here, right on the edge of town, and my mind goes to Bram as I spot it. I wonder what he’s doing right now. He was nursing a cup of tea as I left, stealing a slice of black pudding from the remains of the fried breakfast he made for us. I hadn’t even realised there was food in the fridge.