“Need another?” the bartender asked, not even sparing me a glance until the professor pointed at me.
“I’m all set, but she needs something.”
The bartender had to forcibly pull his gaze away from the handsome man at my side. I couldn’t blame him. I was ready to fist bump him in solidarity.
“Uh, a Dirty Shirley please.”
“Coming right up,” the bartender said before spinning around and grabbing a bottle of vodka.
I immediately wanted to punch myself in the face. Out of every possible drink the best I could come up with was Dirty Shirley? Could I make myself seem any younger or inexperienced? Not even a Cosmo? Or a Long Island? Ugh.
“So you like cherries, do you?”
My cheeks burned. “Yes. They’re my favorite. Do you have a problem with that?”
He held up a hand in mock defense. “It was just an observation. I myself have a sweet tooth, but not when it comes to drinks.”
“Let me guess, you’re drinking an eighteen year old Scotch, no water, only made in one remote place in Scotland.”
“I’m a man who values enjoying delicacies unpolluted. Pure. Unspoiled.” He brought the glass of amber liquid to his lips and took a taste.
The impulse to ask him whether virgins counted hit me hard and fast. My best friend Nox was going to shit himself laughing at me when he heard about this. Eden Farrell’s first time clubbing and she’s ready to let the first man she talks to deflower her? Such a stereotype.
My drink magically appeared in front of me, though it was less likely magic and more likely distraction as I watched the way the professor’s throat worked when he swallowed. Reaching for it, I brought the two little red straws to my lips and sucked down half in one go, not really tasting anything at all.
“How’s your drink?”
I speared a cherry with the end of one straw and brought it to my mouth. “Good. These cherries are delicious.”
“I’m sure.”
“Want one?” I asked, offering the second cherry to him before I even realized what I was doing.
He looked between me and the cherry for what felt like the longest second in the world before leaning forward and biting the little fruit. I had to swallow back a moan as his lips wrapped around it and he tugged it free.
Oh to be a cherry.
Or anything that man’s lips were on.
I fanned my face. “It’s really hot in here.”
“Is it?”
I downed the rest of my drink, then pushed away from the bar. “Want to dance?”
Who the hell was this woman? Bold and confident with one drink? But I was never going to see him again, and Nox always told me I should seize the day. I was one night away from heading to Ravenscroft University. One night away from years of higher education and political training so I could lead like the rest of the students sent there. We were the future of the supernatural world, powerful and, some might say, elite. Butwith that expectation came the immense sacrifice of our freedom to live our lives the way we wanted. In order to serve the people, we had to abandon ourselves.
I wasn’t even sure I knew who I was, to be honest. I’d spent so long crafting the persona I wanted everyone to see. One that made me seem safe and worthy. If the whispers that followed me my whole life were to be believed, I was less ‘pillar of the community’ and more ‘villain lying in wait’. Thus, the need to prove them wrong with all the rule following. Except for tonight of course. Tonight was for anonymity and living in the moment.
Taking him by the hand I tugged him toward the dance floor. “Come on, professor. Live a little.”
“You should probably call me Van.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I’m pretty fond of professor.”
As we joined the crowd, someone bumped into me, making me wobble momentarily. Van’s hand around my waist steadied me while he simultaneously pulled me against him. He was warm, thrumming with power, and god, he smelled so good. The scent was stronger now that I was in his arms, but I still couldn’t put my finger on what it was.
We moved together to the music, eyes locked, bodies swaying to the sensual rhythm of the song.