Page 5 of Snowed In with an Incubus

“Uhhhh,” Jaz said finally. “What was that?”

Chapter 2

Jaz rattled the automatic doors.

“They won’t open,” Sam said, just like the last two times she’d tried. He was still behind the counter, rummaging in his pockets.At least that was what he’d been doing the last time she shone her phone in his direction. He certainly sounded like he wasstill rummaging. “Come on, I can get us out the … oh. Oh, shit.”

“Oh, shit?” Jaz repeated shrilly, whirling around. “I do not like the tone of that oh, shit.”

She aimed her phone at his face. He squinted, shielding his eyes against the light.

“So I usually have my back door key,” he started. “But my boss lost hers again, so I gave her mine. She’s getting them replacedafter New Year’s.”

“So useful! Thank you! Can’t we get out from the inside?”

“No. It’s just a keyhole. There isn’t a—” he muddled a hand in the air “—twisty thing on the inside.”

“Okay,” Jaz said slowly. “No offense, but I’m gonna need to verify that.”

He sighed. “Be my guest.”

He led her into a back room. Jaz pointed her phone at the door, which had a doorknob and a giant hole where the key went.No twisty lock to let them out. No cell service. No date. Her Facebook messages were in limbo from when she’d tried to getin touch with her best friend, Lilian, during the tattoo session. The tattoo photo she’d tried to post to her Instagram storieshad failed.

“Okay,” Jaz repeated. “So we’re stuck.”

“Looks like,” he said dully.

Jaz’s arm stung. She fought the urge to rub it. Even though she had a jacket and a SecondSkin on, rubbing it was a bad idea.She’d only done this tattoo rodeo once before, but she remembered enough to know that any kind of touching was to be avoidedfor the first … day? Four hours? Sam had told her, she was sure. But he’d been speaking so fast, and she was distractedby how his dark curls fell over his forehead. She’d always been a sucker for a curly-haired guy, surely a leftover from herteenage boy band crushes. The hair was probably why she didn’t feel as scared as she should have, stuck in a tattoo studiowith a stranger.

She turned to him, lifting her chin so her reasonable height seemed even taller. “You’re not a creep, right?”

“No,” he replied. “But I feel like a creep would also say no.”

He still looked annoyed, but more than that, he looked … strained. Weak, almost. He’d said he was hungry. She had assumedhe’d had a light lunch or forgotten to have an afternoon snack. This looked worse than that. Sweat gleamed at his hairline,and there had been a few moments while he was tattooing her when he seemed pained.

Before she could ask if he had a medical condition he had ignored to stay late and give her a breakup tattoo cover-up, hegot out his cell phone and turned on the flashlight function, pointing it at a mini fridge next to the door.

“Never thought I’d be happy that Tammy keeps forgetting to take her leftovers home,” he said, pulling out a Tupperware container.“How do you feel about cold noodles?”

Five minutes later, they were hunched on the waiting couch at the front of the studio, eating noodles while their phones emanatedlight between them. He’d given her the Tupperware container but only after hefting half of the noodles into a mug for himself.He’d also carried a stack of coats hanging on the back door—Tammy’s winter wardrobe, he claimed—and dumped them on the couchbetween them. The heater had gone out with the lights, and the cold was already getting worse. Jaz had expected him to gofor them immediately—after all, he was the one in the tight jeans and T-shirt—but he only took a thin cardigan, draping itover his lap as he ate.

“Do you have a medical condition?” Jaz asked as she scraped the bottom of the Tupperware container. “You’re all …”

She gestured at him, all sweaty and weak.

He gave her a drawn smile. “Just hungry.”

She shot him a dubious look.

“Seriously,” he added.

She burrowed deeper into her jacket layers. “Your arms are bare. I feel bad.”

“Right,” he said after a moment. He pulled the cardigan out of his lap and slid his arms through the sleeves. He didn’t lookrelieved. If anything, he just looked more tired.

Maybe he’s one of those guys who wears shorts in winter, Jaz thought. It was either that or he was a monster. It was rare, but it could happen. He looked human, but some monstersoften looked human, right? Shifters and the like. He could be a werewolf. Wait, was tonight a full moon? That might explainthe sweatiness.

She craned her neck to look out the window. If there was a full moon up in that storm, she couldn’t see it.