The moment it’s gone, I feel a rush of heat racing across my skin. My natural scent, masked by the suppressant but still there, faint but distinctly mine. Vanilla bean, sweet citrus, warm almond milk.
It’s barely there, just a whisper, but it’s enough to distinguish me from Ash.
My skin is raw, and this can’t be good for me, messing with my body’s natural rhythms like this, but it’s just for tonight.
I press the patch gently between two pieces of shiny paper and tuck it into a sealed side compartment in my bag, careful not to crush it.
Then I quickly check my reflection in the mirror once more.
I look like myself.
I slip out of the bathroom, heart pounding, and stash the bag behind the trash can again. No one is in the hallway. Good.
Then I head toward the table, my shoes making soft sounds on the floor.
All four heads turn simultaneously, like they’re connected to the same radar system.
Their eyes lock on me, tracking my approach with an intensity that floods my face with heat.
Maybe this was a terrible idea. Maybe I should have stayed home as Ash and made up some excuse about Anita being unable to make it.
But it’s too late now.
The guys on the closest side of the table to me—Mason and Dylan—scoot over immediately, making room, and I slide in next to Mason.
“Hey!” I say brightly. “Ash pointed your table out. Said I could join you.”
“Welcome,” Dylan adds with a grin.
Mason is studying me with that charming look on his face. “We were about to send out a search party.”
Dylan just stares, then winks. “I volunteered to do mouth-to-mouth.”
I snort, trying not to laugh as I settle in, my pulse already picking up from the heat in their eyes. “Good thing I made it in time, then.”
Slater just watches, quiet and unreadable, a single brow ticking up as I sit down. There’s something charged about the way his gaze lingers. His fingers curl once against his water glass. “Well, you clean up better when you’re not freezing and inhaling smoke.”
I pull a breath, steadying myself against the ripple of desire that his voice sends through me, all dark velvet and delicious. “Didn’t realize I was making such a glamorous first impression.”
Dylan leans in, grinning. “Wait, what? Did I miss a meet-cute between you two?” Mason and Jasper are watching just as intently.
“She was on the ferry with me yesterday,” Slater explains, still not glancing away from me. “Wind was brutal and we broke down. She looked half frozen when we docked.”
“Wow, thanks. Really painting a full picture, huh?” My cheeks warm up, but not just from embarrassment, more from the memory of the ride and me swooning at meeting him the first time. Still, I hadn’t missed the way his jaw clenched when he concentrated or how he told me the Norse tale. And for someone so surly, he’s unfairly good-looking.
Mason smiles. “This is great. I love a good origin story.” His gaze remains on me. “You never mentioned Ash was your brother.”
I shrug, heart tapping a little faster. “Never asked.”
There’s a pulse of energy between us, charged, and we’re staring at one another, until Jasper clears his throat, breaking the moment.
“Hope you’re hungry,” he says, still half grinning. “We ordered already.” He leans forward now, arms resting on the table. He smiles like he did back at my apartment when he helped me find my keys and showed me around. The man is just irresistibly handsome. In truth, all four of them are.
Mason passes me a plate, his fingers brushing mine, and an excited shiver races up my arm. “Try the gyoza before Dylan devours the rest.”
“You make me sound like a monster,” Dylan says, eyes dancing. “A sexy, starving monster.”
“You said it, not us,” Jasper mutters.
