Chapter 17
WHAT IS THIS, A STALKER ROMANCE?
Sky didn’t react to my weird-as-hell question. He didn’t look at me, either.
He did, however, squeeze my side, which obliterated any coherent thoughts like he’d reset my brain. His arm was a warm band—not quite possessive, but definitely a little protective.
I didn’t know what was more shocking: his sudden appearance or the hard, unreadable look on his face. His calm, laid-back persona wasn’t in the room with us. Instead, something stormy lurked in his eyes as he stared down the smaller man. That looked a lot like temper.
I stood rooted in place like I’d been superglued there.
Meanwhile, the drunk jerk blinked at him, swaying slightly. “Wait, is this your boyfriend? You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.”
It was enough to rouse me from my stupor. I turned a glare on him and opened my mouth to deny it, to tell him a girl shouldn’t need a boyfriend for him to grasp the word no. But Sky beat me to it.
“It doesn’t matter who I am.” His voice stayed level, but there was steel underneath. “This is your cue to get out of here. The lady isn’t interested.”
The guy glanced blearily from Sky to me, like he was weighing his odds. Spoiler alert: they weren’t good. Sky had a good six inches on him, at least twice the shoulder width, and a sense of equilibrium. Not a fight Whiskey Breath would win.
He was apparently sober enough to realize it, too, because he shrugged, muttering, “Whatever.”
And he left.
I watched him stagger away, heart racing. The relief was short-lived, though.
Despite every cell screaming at me to snuggle right in, I stepped out of Sky’s embrace and pivoted to face him. The small crowd of onlookers who’d been watching the exchange went right back to dancing. The movement and music swallowed the moment, like it had never happened.
I stared up at my bartender crush. Who was suspiciously good at being in the right place at the right time lately.
Or the wrong one. Depending on how you looked at it.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, raising my voice over the bass-heavy beat.
He tracked the drunk guy’s retreat for a second longer before turning back. His ocean eyes moved over me. Flustered, I looked away, massaging the wrist still smarting from that asshole’s iron grip.
“Are you okay?” Sky asked tightly.
I raised my gaze back to his. He was watching me rub the tender skin, expression stormy.
Was I okay? What a loaded question, considering the state of my life these last few days.
I almost laughed but managed to nod instead, letting my hand fall back to my side.
Only then did I remember it was the same one with the alien tattoo.
I made a loose fist around it. Not that I needed to worry. It was too dark to see anything—
I forgot I even had hands when Sky stepped closer.
The smallest shift, but it was enough.
He was so much taller than me. I was eye level with his chin. His shoulders. His black Henley clung to his tapered chest and outlined all those muscles beneath. How was this man so well-shaped—
His chest shook, and I blinked. It took me a second to register his chuckle. I dragged my attention up in time to see a faint, crooked grin appear.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” he said, tucking his hands into his pockets.
“Like what?” I pushed a loose strand behind my ear, then pulled down my dress sleeves before catching myself fidgeting. “When I’m in need of rescuing?”
He lifted a shoulder in a tiny shrug. He could’ve modeled. There had to be some sexy bartender calendar out there. A shirtless one, hopefully. Because this whole package…
My focus dipped again, trailing down, lower, and—oh no. No, no, no. I did not want to be thinking about Sky’s…anything package.
I snapped my eyes shut.
Oh my God. What was wrong with me?
“Rae?” he asked, sounding a little bewildered. Most likely because I was standing there with my eyes squeezed shut and hands fisted. “You all right?”
What was it about him that fried my brain cells?
I gathered every ounce of willpower (and maybe a little vodka) and opened my eyes, summoning a small, weak smile. “Yeah. Thanks,” I said, swallowing a nervous laugh. “For the save. With that guy.”
My throat was so dry, and that was still shock ricocheting through my body. He’d come out of nowhere. Like he could tell I was reeling, his brows tented, humor fading.
I needed another drink. Especially if he was going to keep looking at me like that, with all that intensity.
“Sorry that guy touched you like that,” he said quietly, eyes sliding to my wrist once again. Something hard glinted in them for a second. “Some people don’t take a hint, and that’s not okay.”
I smiled up at him less tentatively this time. “I know. I’m fine, though.” I paused and glanced around. My rapidly deflating curls brushed my cheeks at the movement, and I pushed them over my shoulder. It’d gotten a lot hotter in here all of a sudden. “So are you here with friends or…?”
Instead of answering, Sky lifted a hand. I froze as he tucked the escaping stray strand of hair back behind my ear again. His fingertips grazed the sensitive skin at my temple. Fire trailed in their wake.
Breathing became a hell of a lot harder, and my cheeks blazed. Words tumbled out of me.
“What are you doing?”
Like he was wondering the same thing, Sky yanked his arm back and rocked onto his heels, giving me a smile I could only describe as sheepish. Maybe even shy. “Sorry. I couldn’t help it. I’m not used to seeing it down.” He cleared his throat and glanced away.
Down…
Oh. My hair.
He was talking about my hair, and he was still standing close. The dance floor’s lighting washed him in splashes of neon green, vivid pink, and deep blue. The shifting glow rendered his face in chiseled slopes and planes, shadowing his high cheekbones, straight nose, and strong jawline.
But none of that stopped suspicion from blooming as the shock of his appearance began to fade.
He still hadn’t answered me. He still hadn’t said why he was here.
Or why, for the second time in as many days, he’d appeared out of nowhere to save the day. First the country road. Now Crescent. Sky Acosta was starting to feel like my own personal knight in shining armor.
The strand of hair he’d tucked behind my ear had escaped, and I pushed it back again, fingers clumsy. Where had that thought come from? I wasn’t the damsel type. My thoughts felt like scrambled eggs. Probably from the deadly combo of alcohol and the sheer amount of heat he radiated.
He had to be used to girls melting like this. That thought helped me rally enough brain cells to ask again, “What are you doing here, Sky?” Frowning, I added, “Weren’t you working or something tonight?”
I regretted it the second it left my mouth. Right, because it’s totally normal to assume he lived behind the bar.
He didn’t look offended. If anything, he looked amused again, his dimple reappearing. Some of his tension bled away as he raised a brow. “I’m sorry—are you the only one who gets days off?”
“No, of course not. I meant…” I scrubbed my palm against the dress’s slinky material and sighed. “What are you doing here, here?” I swept out my unmarked hand to encompass the dancers around us, the crowded bar. The DJ bopping away to the heavy beat.
He followed my gesture. “Well, I’m not doing anything right now,” he said, raking his bangs back with one hand. He hesitated, then: “So…did you want to dance?”
My mouth dropped open.
“With you?” I squeaked. “Right now?”
I had a completely irrational urge to run away. Sky wanted to dance with me? Here? In front of all these people?
His gaze slid back to mine slowly, and he grinned, a lopsided one with a hint of teasing. “Well, yeah. That’s the idea.”
He extended his hand. I stared at it, then him.
Dance. Dance with Sky? Now, while my life was falling apart?
Maybe I shouldn’t question it. Maybe this was the universe’s way of balancing things out. After all, these last few days had been less than stellar. I deserved something nice—something not extraterrestrial. There was nothing alien about Sky. He was all human male.
Ah, what the hell? Why not? I slipped my unmarked palm into his. I was unprepared for the light tug he gave it. A second later, I was in his arms.
And we were dancing…ish. At the very least, we were swaying in place.
My hands found his shoulders. His shirt was soft as angel wings.
As the fabric of all my hazy daydreams. The contrast with his warm body and sturdy strength beneath nearly made me shiver.
So did his featherlight touch at my waist as he nudged me closer.
Close enough that the front of our bodies brushed.
My heart galloped like it was chasing a world record.
Mouth dry, I raised my eyes to his. I couldn’t begin to imagine what he was thinking, but he was focused. On me. His thumb brushed my ribcage. His touch felt almost hesitant, like he expected me to pull away.
Which would be insane. This was just as unreal as glowing orbs and robot monsters, as aliens being real and here on our tiny Earth rock.
The thought sobered me enough that I broke eye contact. Club music pulsed and thumped. A group of guys cheered at the bar, clinking bottles together. Spotlights splashed color in flickering patches over the walls, the floor, the dancers moving around us.
Normal. This was normal.
I’d wanted a night of normalcy, hadn’t I? Never in a million years would I have thought that included an appearance from Sky, but who was I to question fate? This was nice.
Our movements were tame, a gentle sway compared to Amelia and Emerick nearby. They were wrapped in each other. Enough so that she’d missed everything with drunk Prince Charming. Not to mention Sky’s appearance. She’d notice soon, though.
I could only imagine how this was going to go. She knew who he was from visiting me at work, but they’d never officially met.
Didn’t mean she didn’t know all about him from me, of course.
I tore my attention from her and found Sky watching me. Studying me. Still moving to the beat with that light hold on my waist.
Another wave of disbelief surged—that he was here, that we were doing this—and suddenly, I couldn’t contain words.
“You don’t have to do this,” I blurted. I knew my face was red. I could feel it throbbing. I was sure I was bordering on a human glowstick. “He’s gone.”
“What was that?” Sky tilted an ear toward me.
The song shifted into something darker, blatantly sensual, with breathy, suggestive lyrics. Just the kind of song I’d have pictured Sky while listening to.
That wasn’t awkward or anything.
I cleared my throat, rising onto my tiptoes to repeat myself in his ear.
The vodka chose that exact moment to kick in. Off balance, I stumbled forward, erasing all the inches between us—and smacked face-first into the rock-hard wall that was Sky.