Page 115 of Red Marked

I’m a pussy.

Holy fuck!

Why did I tell her I was celibate?

I could have kept that tidbit to myself.

“So.” Star flips hers open. “Are the wings the best thing on the menu? Is there something else I should know about?”

“The ribs are good too. They do a great barbecue sauce, but the wings are what they’re known for,” I tell her. “You want the full serving with fries, onion rings, the works. I recommend the hot wings if you want the whole experience.”

“Sold.” She closes the menu without reading it. “I’m in.”

“I should warn you, they’re pretty hot.”

“I can handle hot.” She winks at me.

Shit. She’s flirting.

I look at the jukebox and then back at the menu.

“How did you find this place?” she asks. “It isn’t exactly your regular head of security hangout.”

“From my friend Atlas. You saw him. He was the biggest dragon who brought you back from the mountains.” I put the menu down. “Anyway, he’s on the team and primed to take over from me when I leave in a month or two. He brought me here a while ago.”

“You’re leaving the rehab center?” Her eyes go big.

“Relax, I won’t ship out until we have this all worked out.”

“It’s just that⁠—”

“Here we go.” The waitress is back. She puts the beers down, mine first, close enough that her fingers brush my wrist, and she leans in when she does it, trying to get me to look down her top. I don’t. “You guys ready to order?”

“I’ll have the full helping of hot wings,” Star says, smiling up at her. “With everything.”

“Same,” I say. “Thanks.”

“Anything else for you?” It’s aimed at me.

“We’re good.”

“You sure? I could bring you a slice of pie while you wait. We have cherry. It’s sweet and a little tart. It’s really, really good.”

“I’m fine, thanks. What about you, Star?”

“I’m good with the wings.”

“Suit yourself. Let me know if you change your mind.” The waitress keeps her eyes on me. She turns and walks, her hips swaying. I don’t watch her go.

Star wraps her hand around her glass, takes a long sip, and licks the foam off her top lip. “She likes you.”

“I’m not interested.”

“So it’s not just me, then.” She shrugs one shoulder, sequins glinting. “You were saying? About moving to another assignment.”

“Right. It⁠—”

“Sorry to interrupt.” A male has appeared at the end of our table. He’s tall, with an easy grin, his sleeves pushed up, the red in his markings bright under the lights. He isn’t looking at me at all. “I don’t mean to be rude. Would you like to dance, beautiful lady?” he asks Star.