Page 53 of Just the Pool Boy at Vampire Mansion

He was right. Nobody looked over as we entered. It was all very casual, apart from the thousand-dollar clutch bags, designer shoes, sparkling jewelry, and faces that all looked as though they should be trending on IG.

Was it too late to back out?

My heart raced.

A live band played some kind of garage rock revival, and the singer hollered into a mic somewhere at the back of the bar-hotel-club situation. Our area, near the bar, was quieter. Theo steered me toward the barman and ordered us drinks.

He didn’t tell me to relax, but I could see him thinking it while leaning on the bar top. I was thinking it too. I could function in polite society. I used to move through scenes like this. Expensive watch, designer suit, polished Oxford shoes. People had flocked to my side back then, but it hadn’t been me they’d liked. Not really. They’d been afraid. We’d all been afraid. Davis made sure of it.

“Owen?”

“Huh?”

“Your drink.”

“Oh right, yeah. Thanks.” I wrapped my hand around the tall cool glass of something purple, sparkly, fruity, and fancy. Theo smiled, like he might laugh at my social awkwardness at any moment. “I uh . . . I don’t get out much.”

I should have worn better shoes.

“It’s alright.” He tilted his head. “For once, I don’t have to pretend I wanna be with someone.”

I blinked. Did that mean he didn’t have to pretend he wanted to be with me, or that he didn’t want to be with me and wasn’t pretending?

He looked good. I’d noticed in the car, but it was more obvious now under the bar’s lights. His long-lashed dark eyes caught the atmospheric lighting. His lips were soft, bitable. Not bitable . . . No idea where that thought came from. Emotive. Yeah, that was the word. He wore black pants with some kind of designer belt that wasn’t really holding them up, and a slim shirt that fitted to his waist. The sleeves were oversized, cuffs draping. It should have looked ridiculous—it would have on me—but Theo made everything look good.

I poked at the little skewer of fruit in my drink. “What is this?” I asked.

“Dark and sweet, like me.” He clinked his glass with mine and took a sip.

Dark maybe, but sweet? I doubted he was that. I took a drink and tasted the sweetness with a hint of dark chocolate notes. I had no idea what the flavor was supposed to be, but I liked it.

“Good?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

We settled for a few minutes at the bar, acclimatizing, and then Theo asked, “So, what got you spooked today, pool boy? Anything to do with next door?”

He’d been dying to ask since picking me up.

“Uh, no, not next door. But do you mind if we don’t talk about it here, tonight?” My smile tried to fall off my lips again, but I wrestled it back on. “Another time, maybe.”

“I hear that. You wanna forget?” he asked, fingertip lightly circling the top of his glass.

“Yeah,” I admitted, hoping I didn’t sound as desperate to forget as I felt.

“How deep do you wanna go, huh?”

What was he asking exactly? His eyes had gotten all sultry and suggestive. It was difficult to tell what Theo was thinking when all his expressions were suggestive in some way.

I laughed a little. “Seems like that could be a dangerous question from you?”

“C’mon, you know me, an’ I think I know you.”

“Yeah? What do you think you know?”

“I know some dick burned you, and that’s enough. I’m not going to put you in danger. I’m not that guy. So, if you wanna forget, I won’t push it.”

Not that guy.