And he shouldn’t be here.
As I’m flicking the lock over and turning the handle, a thought hits me, sending an icy shiver down my spine.
“How did you know where I live?” I ask in lieu of a greeting.
His dashing smile falters slightly but he recovers quickly. “Well, hello to you too, Daisy Love.”
“Don’t ‘Daisy Love’ me.” I wag my finger in his face. “How is it that I don’t even know your name and yet you know where I live? How—Why are you here?”
His grin turns sheepish as he holds up a pizza box I’m only now noticing, practically thrusting it into my arms. He brought me pizza.
My stomach rumbles in betrayal.
I level a glare on him as the delicious scent of spicy chicken pizza hits my nostrils.
“For starters, my name is Stark Livingburn.” He runs a hand through his hair. “And I’ll admit. I might’ve peeked inside your bag for the address on your ID. I wanted to apologize for what happened last night.”
He holds out my messenger bag in front of him, like a peace offering. I’m relieved he returned my bag but also half horrified that he looked inside of it.
“What happened last night?” I ask, my voice a whisper.
Stark clears his throat. “Ah, some thugs thought they could steal from me. When I saw your friend, I didn’t realize he wasn’t one of them until it was too late.”
“That doesn’t explain the red eyes and…” my voice catches on the word. “Fangs.”
His gaze turns serious as he opens his mouth, hesitates, then shuts it again. The silence stretches into a taut string that threatens to snap.
When he finally speaks, his voice is low and measured.
“According to the, ah, police, they were doped up on some… uh… new drug. One they’re trying to keep off the streets.”
I blink at him. “So, you’re saying they were… on drugs?”
Right. The ‘drugs’ excuse. He might as well have said they were aliens.
“Um, want to let me in so I can properly apologize?” Stark shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks on his heels, trying, but failing, to appear nonchalant. Is he… embarrassed?
Weird.
How the tables have turned.
Pizza man, Stark, doesn’t seem so dangerous standing there in the hallway with a sheepish half smile on his lips. He’s almost, sort of, endearing really. And handsome. Definitely still crazy attractive.
I hesitate though, Casey’s theory and the way he had grabbed him by the throat with what seemed like superhuman strength playing in my mind. Casey would be furious if he knew I’d let the man who choked him into our apartment.
“You know what? I think the pizza and returning my bag is enough of an apology. Thank you very much, Stark. I appreciate the gesture. Have a good even—” I try to close the door while talking, but Stark shoots out a hand to stop it from closing completely and takes a step closer.
Not close enough that we’re touching, but to where I can see the little blue flecks in his dark eyes. They seem eerily similar to the trench coat cop’s. Are they related?
“Say my name again, Daisy Love,” he says, voice dropping low on the last word, and something loosens in my chest, warmth spreading outward until my fingers feel heavy with it.
“Stark,” I whisper, like the fool I turn into when he’s around.
My resolve completely disappears.
Why does he have that effect on me every time he’s close by?
Why do I like it?
