Page 37 of Until The Lights Go Out

I smirked, tapping my glass lightly against hers. “And what exactly have they been saying?”

Her eyes flicked to the others at the table, then back to me, a little more daring now. “That you’re trouble.”

“That’s a strong word.”

“Is it inaccurate?”

I let a beat of silence stretch, just enough to make it feel intentional. “Depends who you ask.”

“And if I asked you?”

“I’d say I’m having a drink with a pretty girl,” I said easily, my gaze holding hers, “and that seems fairly harmless.” Her cheeks pinked—subtle, but there.

“Harmless,” she repeated, like she didn’t quite buy it.

“Mostly,” I added, just to watch her react.

She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re exactly what they said you’d be.”

“Disappointing, really.” I sighed. “I was hoping for mysterious. Brooding, maybe.”

“Oh, you’ve got the brooding thing down,” she said quickly. “Don’t worry.”

Sebastian barked out a laugh from beside me. “Oh, thank God, someone else sees it.”

I shot him a look. “You mind?”

“Not at all,” he said, grinning into his drink.

Cassie leaned in slightly, lowering her voice just enough that it felt like a secret. “So what’s someone like you doing, slumming at the hotel bar like the rest of us?”

“Was either this or heading to bed.”

“And you chose…this?” she asked, gesturing lightly between us.

My mouth curved. “Seems like I picked the better option.”

“Lucky me.”

“Very,” I said, softer this time.

I held her gaze, steady, practiced. It was rather easy to fall back into my same habits, to make my mind shut off memories. Because even as she smiled at me—even as I leaned closer, even as my hand brushed hers just enough to be intentional—my brain betrayed me. A flash of a different laugh. A different shade of red. A different girl sitting on a hill under a sky full of stars.

I pushed it down hard.

Cassie’s fingers curled slightly against my arm, bringing me back to the present. She was fully leaning into me now. I took another swig of my drink, unsure how many I had drunk at this point.

“So,” she said, her voice quieter, more certain, “are you always this charming, or is this a special occasion?”

“Special occasion,” I said without missing a beat.

“Oh yeah? What are we celebrating?”

I glanced at her, then down at our joined hands for half a second before looking back up.

“Distractions,” I said.

She didn’t pull away. But she did study me a little more carefully this time. “Sounds dangerous,” she said.