Hunter #2
Pretending to slap me with the spatula, Zale waves me away when I try to steal some steaming hot egg from the plate early. “Hey, Shiloh is more than just a boyfriend. He’s my fated mate. He’s the other half of my soul.”
Evans mumbles under his breath. “Yeah, I mean you’ve only told us about a million times.”
“Don’t change the subject again.” Blake says, setting up the stopwatch on his watch and stretching ready for his run. “We expect to hear all about your date when you come home.”
The toast pops and I catch a slice, almost burning my fingers. “Sorry, I don’t kiss and tell.”
I'm not saying that my sister is right, I’m just saying that Escador's has the nicest paella in town and a gorgeous rooftop area, so it’s the perfect choice for our late lunch date. It’s got nothing to do with trying to impress Percy.
I may or may not have bought a new black shirt to pair with my black smart skinny jeans. But that’s not because of Percy or Ivii nagging me to make more effort. It’s because it’s useful to have more black shirts.
I’m a few minutes early, so I take a seat and wait for him to arrive.
Evans has been acting strange all week, and honestly it was starting to give me whiplash.
One moment it was like he needed to be around me, a planet constantly orbiting my personal space.
The clinginess usually came after he’d spent time with Sadie—was he trying to reassure me he was still my friend?
I didn’t need that. And others, he was nowhere to be seen, like I’d done something to piss him off.
Today, he’d barely even glanced my way. When I’d left the house he hadn’t even looked up from his video game. I couldn’t keep up.
My train of thought is interrupted by my date’s arrival.
Ivii‘s friend is exactly what I would expect, as he pulls out a chair and takes a seat elegantly. He’s wearing large sunglasses and an oversized cream blouse with large gold buttons.
The top two are undone, showing a sweet V of creamy, pale skin.
He’s paired it with a pair of brown slacks, the kind with the crease down the front.
If he added a string of pearls, he’d almost look like some politician's trophy mate, in the best way.
The type who would get caught up in scandal, getting down and dirty in the office after performing benevolent acts of charity. Wickedness wrapped in innocence.
He flashes me a bright smile, “I was beginning to think this date would never happen.”
“Yet, here we are.”
There’s a gleam in his eyes and I recognise that look. He’s a predator. He knows what he wants.
“I’ve been begging Ivii to set this up since September. I don’t usually like to be kept waiting.” He flirts, as the waiter pours us each a glass of wine.
Grinning, I sit back, liking that he’s not afraid to say what he thinks or what he feels. It’s always refreshing to be around someone who puts himself out there.
“If I’d known you’d been pining after me, I would’ve made more effort to make this happen sooner.
” Ivii had probably mentioned it before, but I'd likely just ignored her. I wish I hadn’t.
This was already fun and I was interested in where the date was headed.
“But you know what they say, good things come to those who wait.”
Percy laughs, tossing his head back and I’m drawn to the slim column of his neck. How can a neck be elegant? And yet, his is. There’s no denying that I’m attracted to him as my cock twitches. Just like there’s no denying that he is aware of just how attractive he is.
His pale red hair is cut short, with curls that seem to wrap round his head like a crown. There’s a smattering of freckles on his cheeks and over the bridge of his nose, and for a moment I have the strongest urge to paint him, just as he is now.
He fixes his hazel eyes on me as he lowers his sunglasses, “So, I take it you like what you see?”
Something in the back of my mind feels relieved.
It’s been months since I’ve wanted to paint anyone new.
But when he’s like this, relaxed, smiling, flirty, there’s something inherently sensual about the omega in front of me, and that’s without him pumping out his perfume like the others do.
His scent is pleasant. Wafts of vanilla, light and airy, as we sit out on Escador’s rooftop dining area.
“I think I owe my sister a trip to her favorite chocolate shop.”
He raises a brow, “And how about you? Do you enjoy sweet things?”
“I enjoy anything that melts in my mouth,” I say with a smirk.
Percy laughs, I feel like we’re both in for a very good evening. The simmering scent of arousal builds in the air.
I’m proved right as the conversation flows easily, he tells me about training all his life to be a ballet dancer, and I tell him about my art.
We talk about Ivii, and he’s only too happy to give me future blackmail material while we laugh about college antics.
I learnt that Percy transferred to Oakley from Leighton University, on the other side of the country after deciding the dance programmed was better here.
It isn’t until we finish our desserts and we’re sitting there sharing another bottle of wine that I hear a familiar name being mentioned somewhere behind me.
Glancing over my shoulder, I see Mr. Crawford, Evans' father being shown to a table somewhere to our left. The stern looking man barely makes an expression as he takes his seat and orders a whiskey.
Was Evans meeting his father for dinner today? He never said anything. Although I should have put two and two together, because when I left this morning for a swim, I passed him running laps around the field. He didn’t even notice when I tried to wave him down.
A few moments later, the scent of bergamot and bitter lime lingers in the air, and Evans walks past, only he doesn’t look like the Evans I know.
This is a polished version.
The version that goes to gala dinners and football charity events. His designer suit is clearly expensive and made to fit his body like a glove, cut to enhance his broad shoulders and taper in around his narrow waist. He looks good. Like he belongs amongst the 1%. This is Benedict Evan Crawford II.
It doesn’t seem like he spotted us yet, as he keeps his gaze down, taking his seat by his father's side, barely looking up. They’re sitting too far away for us to hear the conversation, but I don’t miss the way Evans sits.
His spine is straight, stiff as his shoulders are raised, practically up by his ears.
“Oh dear,” Percy says with an exaggerated sigh as he nudges his knee against mine. “It appears I’ve lost your attention already. That doesn’t bode well for the rest of our night.”
“Apologies, I thought I saw someone I recognized.”
He looks thoughtful as he gives Evans a once over, and something uncomfortable uncurls low in my stomach. “He is rather yummy isn’t he. However, tonight Hunter Ashbourne, you are all mine.”
Trying to focus my attention back on Percy, I know I’m being a bad date as my attention keeps wandering back to the table behind us.
I strain my ears, trying to hear what they’re saying but it’s no use. I catch the odd word on the breeze, but nothing fully. However, I don’t really need to hear to know that Evans is being made to feel like he’s two inches tall. ‘Disappointing’ and ‘legacy’ travel far enough for me to gather that.