Chapter 7
Ilook up at the brightly lit restaurant in front of me and my stomach dips.
My skin feels like it’s too tight and tingles with static electricity.
Behind the building, I see a microburst of lightning ripple across the ominous black clouds, punctuating the rapidly darkening skies.
There’s a storm coming, a bad one. The wind has dropped slightly, no longer almost gale force like it was earlier in the day, but it’s still enough to tug at my clothes and my body, making me sway slightly.
I should have said no.
I turn my attention back to the restaurant once more. I’m a few minutes late thanks to the weather, and I’m assuming they’ve already arrived. In fact, I’m pretty sure I can see Tristan’s wild mop of curly hair as he stands by the bar with a tall blonde man.
Staring up at the sky again, I feel my magic thrum through my veins.
For some reason, I’m finding it hard to shut down my empathic abilities this evening.
I close my eyes, fisting my hands at my sides.
Right now, all the people around me are huge blinking neon billboards, every thought and desire broadcast in HD.
But it’s not just the people who are a problem.
The atmosphere itself feels heavy, causing pressure at the back of my skull, and it’s giving me a headache.
The funny thing is, Tristan’s unlike the others. He’s not as easy to read. Perhaps that should make me nervous, as if he’s hiding something, but it’s the opposite. There’s something about him that’s soothing.
Maybe that’s why I said yes. Maybe that’s why I helped him last week and didn’t even charge for my services, or maybe I really am lonely. For once, it would be nice to have a real friend and not just passing acquaintances.
I guess I’ll have to put up with his boyfriend for a few hours.
I just hope he isn’t too loud, and I don’t mean the tone of his voice.
Most people broadcast every little thought and feeling to the point where it’s like they’re constantly shouting at me.
It’s why I prefer the solitude. It’s also why I’ve never joined a coven—not that many of them exist anymore, not real ones anyway.
I blink as something wet hits my face, then look up as the first fat drops of rain begin to fall, splattering against the pavement either side of me. Hunching down, I step forward and grasp the door handle, pushing my way inside right when the heavens fully open.
The sudden onslaught of psychic noise inside leaves me a little dizzy.
I thrust my hand into the pocket of my navy peacoat and wrap my fingers around the crystal I keep there.
It warms and pulses against my curved palm, and a wave of calm washes over me.
It’s not enough to block everything out, but it does take it to a more manageable level.
This is a bad idea.
I’m about to turn around and walk straight back out the door when Tristan catches sight of me, waving so enthusiastically he almost smacks his partner in the face. But seemingly used to Tristan, the man ducks out of the way and smiles, chuckling to himself.
Tristan looks so pleased to see me I can’t bring myself to leave. Forcing an uncomfortable smile, which probably looks more like a pain-filled grimace, I head toward them.
Tristan beams as I approach. “Harrison, hi!”
“Hi,” I reply, feeling awkward.
“This is Danny.” He wraps his hands around his boyfriend’s arm like he can’t not touch him, and it’s kind of sweet. “Danny, this is Harrison.”
“Pleasure.” Danny leans forward and offers his hand.
For a moment, I hesitate. Touch usually amplifies my empathic abilities, so I avoid it if I can, but Tristan looks so happy, and Danny has such a sweet, welcoming expression, that I don’t want to offend either of them, which is weird. I usually don’t care one way or the other.
Reaching out and taking his hand, I give it a quick shake, but instead of being overwhelmed by a rush of confusing and often disturbing images and feelings, I’m hit with…
a wave of calmness. I stare at Danny curiously and allow myself to read him.
What I get surprises me. He just radiates comfort and ease.
Kindness and an innate sense of fairness, yes, but most of all, love.
And when he looks at Tristan, he glows with it.
“Um, so we have a bit of a confession to make,” Tristan says, a little sheepishly. “Uh, Danny and I… Well, there was a little miscommunication, and let’s just say we may have made a slight faux pas.”
I can feel my face settling into my resting bitch face, and I try to fight it. My stomach jumps and starts to knot as I wonder what he’s about to spring on me.
“When I invited you to dinner tonight, I didn’t know that Danny had also invited his friend Sam.”
I don’t say anything as I continue to stare at him.
“It’s not a setup or a double date or anything. God, I don’t even know what your orientation is. I would never try to set someone up on a blind date. I just don’t want you to think…I mean…”
“What Tris is trying to say,” Danny interrupts, “is that we unintentionally double-booked ourselves, but I hope that you won’t mind. Sam’s a good guy. He’s only recently moved to London from Leeds, and today’s his birthday. I didn’t want him to spend it on his own, and he’s a stubborn arse.”
“Stubborn arse?” a deep voice with a hint of humour threaded through it rumbles behind me. “Sounds like you’re talking about me.”
I turn around and suck in a sharp breath.
The man in front of me is all sexy and mussed up.
His shirt, peeking out from beneath his open coat, is slightly wrinkled, the collar carelessly unbuttoned, and his tie is loosened.
His hands are tucked casually in his pockets, and his shaggy black hair looks as if he’s been running his fingers through it.
There’s dark stubble across his jaw and a scar running from the corner of his left eye down his cheek.
His eyes though. They’re so dark you almost can’t see his pupils.
He’s gorgeous.
My heart starts pounding, and a jolt of shock hits me before a low hum of arousal threads through my veins, warming my blood and causing my skin to flush.
I’ve always suspected I was probably gay.
Women didn’t interest me at all, whereas I’ve always found men objectively attractive, but I’ve never felt that pull of interest toward anyone in particular.
I’ve wondered if I might be ace or demi because I’ve never really been interested in sex.
But this man in front of me now is pushing buttons I didn’t know I had.
“Sam,” Danny chuckles. “This is Harrison. Harrison, this is Sam.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Harrison.” He takes my hand, and I’m too thrown to do anything but let him.
Damn it, even his voice is a low, sexy rasp that hits somewhere south of my belly. Those dark eyes track over my face, lingering on my lips and then skimming down to my throat as I swallow tightly.
“I’ve always had a weakness for freckles,” he murmurs, a small smile curving the corner of his mouth, and for the first time in my life, I want to lean forward and press my mouth to someone’s. I want to see if his lips taste good, to see if they’re as soft and inviting as they look.
I’m so spellbound by this man that it takes me more than a moment to realise he’s holding my hand and I can’t feel anything from him.
My gaze dips to our hands and then to his face.
I can’t sense anything from him at all. He’s like Tristan, a blank void.
Only with Tristan, it’s cool and calming, a welcome respite from the chaotic thoughts of others, but with Sam, it crackles and sparks with an electrical undercurrent.
Alarm bells sound in my head, and I feel my spine stiffen as I tear my hand from his.
“Oh, I think our table’s ready,” Tristan interrupts, but as his gaze snags on me, his brow wrinkles. “Are you alright, Harrison? You look very flushed. It is a bit warm in here. Do you need a drink?”
“No, I…” I shake my head and look for the quickest exit out of this place away from this trio of strange men. “I shouldn’t…”
“Please stay,” Tristan says softly, seeing me eye the door.
“Tristan,” Sam rumbles as he continues to watch me. “Why don’t you and Danny go and take a seat. Give us a moment?”
Tristan’s gaze turns to me, and I nod, my hackles rising under Sam’s intense scrutiny.
Danny tugs Tristan’s hand, and a server leads them through into the restaurant. I glance back to Sam and we stand in silence.
“I make you nervous,” he says finally. I wish he’d just stop talking altogether because that fucking voice of his is going straight to my dick, which seems to have suddenly woken from a twenty-year coma.
“Maybe I just don’t like you,” I say stiffly. I have no idea what to do with my body malfunctioning.
His mouth twitches in amusement, then he lets out a little sigh. “Look, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, which for some reason I seem to be. Is it the scar?”
“No.” I frown. “Why would that make me uncomfortable?”
He shrugs. “Some people react to it and make assumptions about who I am, about the type of person I am.”
“People are idiots.”
“More often than not.” He smiles, and for a second I’m slightly dazed, my equilibrium off, like the ground has shifted under my feet. “But then that’s the human condition, isn’t it? Abject stupidity. It’s what makes us so loveable.”
I huff quietly.
“Look,” he says, “like I said, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. You were expecting to spend the evening with Danny and Tristan, so I’ll just tell them I got a work call.”
“At this time of the evening?” I ask, unable to help myself.
“I keep unusual hours.” He shrugs again before carefully studying my face. “It was nice to meet you, Harrison.” The way he says my name feels loaded somehow. “If you could tell Danny I’m sorry and that I’ll make it up to them next week.”