Mind made up, I walk to the door and give it a push. Warm air and light instantly wrap around me, sending a shiver racing down my cold, soaked body.
The inside is oddly charming, in a retro kind of way. The floor is tiled in a black-and-white checkerboard pattern and spotless. So clean I bet you could eat off it. The walls are lined with hanging ivy vines, giving the space a weirdly cozy vibe.
Even though the place is small, there are several tables, a counter with a register, and a glass fridge stocked with bottled sodas. It’s buzzing with noise andpackedwith customers, eventhis late. That’s a good sign. Then again, anything is infinitely better than standing outside in the dark stormy night.
As I make my way toward the counter and the overhead menu, I realize I’m leaving a watery trail behind me.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
A steady trickle falls onto the tile.
I wince. They’re definitely gonna need a wet floor sign after I leave. Oops.
As I’m reading the oddly ironic pizza names on the menu like Groovin’ with the Shroomin’ and No Onions, No Crying, it suddenly goes very quiet behind me, making the sound of my dripping somehow echo in the small busy place.
I glance around the restaurant finding everyone staring at me, completely silent. I, too, turn my head hoping there’s something going on behind me, but nope, just me.
It’s the first time I really register that the place is full of men.Allmen.
And they’re hot. Like, unfairly hot.
My eyes flick from one intense dark bluish gaze to another and a creeping sense of dread coils in my stomach.
Why are there this many hot men here? In this place? At this hour?
Goosebumps rise on my arms. I rub at them instinctively and glance down—only to realize my very white shirt is now very see-through.
And very much showing off my lacy red bra underneath.
Fucking fantastic.
Way to make an entrance, Kal.
“Anything I can help you with, Miss?”
The voice behind me is smooth and deep. Like honey dripping from a dropper in slow motion.
I whirl around and have to physically lock my jaw so it doesn’t hit the floor in a lovely impression of a fish out of water. Which is ironic, because I currentlyamabout as soaked as one.
I forget why I even walked in here in the first place.
As if his voice snapped a spell, the place returns to life.
The hot men around the room all resume their conversations, the shop refilling with sound like someone hit play on a paused scene.
I glance around again, dazed, but no one is looking at me anymore.
The tension from seconds ago? Gone.
Like a pressure bubble popped and I’m just… normal again.
The man steps around me and behind the counter, and a fresh shiver crawls up my spine as his dark eyes settle on me again.
“Miss?”
Oh. Right.
He asked if he could help me.
