Spoiler… I look again.
When I turn, I find him still watching me. His stare is bold and unapologetic. If this were another situation it’d be creepy. But some psychotic part of me finds pure comfort in his stare. The faintest hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth and it’s like he's waiting for me to break.
Heat crawls up my neck.
No, I’m being crazy right now.
But crazy or not, I can’t look away. One of his squadmates says something, and the man laughs. It’s a low, rumbling sound that I can hear from here. I feel it in my stomach too. But his gaze doesn't leave mine.
Then someone jostles me from behind and it jolts me back to reality. I lurch forward, nearly spilling my drink. I turn to find a man stumbling into my side, reeking of cheap beer and cigarettes.
"Hey, sweetheart." His words slur together. "Buy you a drink?"
"I'm good, thanks." I try to turn back to the bar, but his hand lands on my arm, heavy and insistent.
"Excuse you." I jerk my arm away, but he doesn’t back up. “Hey—” I raise my voice, but before I can get another word out a furious growl bursts from behind us.
"She said she's good."
The voice is deep, calm, and absolutely terrifying.
It’s him.
The SERE guy is standing so close I can smell pine and smoke rippling off him. His eyes aren't on me anymore. Instead they're fixed on the drunk and there's nothing soft in them now. My head spins from the whirl of alcohol and chaos.
"Back off," the drunk mutters, but he's already shrinking.
"Now."
One fierce word is all it takes. The drunk releases my arm and stumbles away, muttering under his breath aboutmilitary assholes.It’s over just as quickly as it started. The whole room seems to quiet just for us and all of a sudden he’s all I can see.
I should thank him.
I should say something.
But my heart is pounding so hard I can barely breathe. He's looking at me again with those dark, intense eyes, and up close he's even more overwhelmingly perfect.
"You okay?" His voice is soft now.
There’s a kindness to it that feels like it’s just for me.
"I—yes. Thank you. You didn't have to?—"
"Yeah." He cuts me off, but gently. "I did."
Something passes between us. Something I don't have a name for. I should walk away. I should thank him politely, finish my drink, and go home to my quiet apartment and my responsible life and my endless list of things to worry about.
"I'm Blaze," he says.
"Serena."
"Serena. That's pretty." He says my name back to me, low and slow, like he's tasting it.
I'm blushing as I shake away his compliment. "Can I buy you a drink? To say thank you?"
His smile breaks through, and it transforms his whole face. In an instant he looks younger, but he’s no less intense. "Only if you let me buy the next round."
Say no Serena. Don’t be dumb. This isn’t something you do.
