I had built the place to feel dangerous. Not dangerous enough to make people run. Dangerous enough to make them stay. The kind of place where curiosity whispered louder than common sense. The kind of place where temptation sat down beside you and smiled.
Tonight I was beginning to think I understood why people kept making bad decisions here. Because I was currently staring at one. And I already wanted another round.
I leaned against the bar again, lazily crossing one ankle over the other. "Another game."
Her head snapped toward me so fast her hair shifted over her shoulder. "No."
Immediate. Absolute. Not even a second of consideration. I stared at her. "You reject every game before hearing it."
"Correct.” She swirled her drink.
"That feels closed-minded,” I said.
"Excuse me for having survival instincts,” she bit out.
I put a hand over my chest dramatically. "You're hurting my feelings again."
"No," she said, taking another sip. "I'm protecting society."
Christ. I smiled. Not because she was flirting. That was the problem. She wasn't. Girls usually flirted with me deliberately. They tilted their heads, touched my arm, laughed too long. Everything was calculated.
This girl looked at me like I was an irritating interruption in her evening. And somehow that was infinitely more entertaining. I leaned a little closer. Not enough to crowd her. Just enough that I caught the apple scent again beneath the perfume. Just enough to watch her notice and pretend she didn't.
"I think you're scared,” I continued.
"Scared?" she scoffed. “I’m not scared of anything.”
"Mm." I nodded thoughtfully. "Terrified, actually."
She stared. Then barked out a short laugh. Not amused. Offended. "Of you?"
"No." I tilted my head toward the dance floor. "Of losing."
Absolute silence. Then she narrowed her eyes. I knew that look by then.
"You know," she said softly, "for someone wearing a devil mask, you're very committed to acting like a twelve-year-old."
I blinked. Then slowly looked around.
"Did you hear that?" I asked the bartender.
"Hear what?" he asked, chuckling nervously.
"The violence,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m getting destroyed by a little troublemaker over here.”
She made a horrified sound. I laughed. Again. I kept laughing around her. I hadn't done that in years. She stared at me suspiciously.
"There it is again,” she muttered. “That stupid look."
"What look?" I questioned innocently.
"The one where you look pleased with yourself." She scoffed.
"I have no idea what you're talking about,” I said.
"Liar." She pointed at me. "You're plotting."
I looked at her for a long second. At the annoyed little wrinkle between her brows. At the stubborn lift of her chin. She kept inching toward me without realizing it. Then I smiled slowly beneath the mask. Smart little thing. Very smart. But not smart enough. Because she still hadn't walked away.
