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“And they can’t give you a beer?”

Shit. “They no longer drink.” Well, that part is true. “Wouldn’t be polite of me to show up with alcohol, when they’re on the wagon.”

I give her my warmest look, which I normally reserve for the people I’m hunting, because I need to pull on my resources for this female standing before me.

My brothers know if I get this look on my face I’m far more dangerous than when I look like I want to kill you. If I look like I want to kill you, then where’s the element of surprise? But if I look at you like you are my friend and you can trust me, then you won’t see me coming, motherfucker.

I need to take the edge off and get laid, and she just became my prey for the night. I’ll be fucking her before the night is through.

I hold my hand out to her to shake. “I’m Edge, and you are?”

She puts her small hand in mine and gives my hand a little squeeze. “I’m Sara.” I can see immediately she’s lying to me. She has no clue how to lie. My name’s Edge because I always have the upper hand.

She looks at me like she wants to say something more, her mouth opens a little, and then she says in a very small voice, “Ok. I’ll be over in a few minutes. Let me just clean up a bit.”

“I’ll just go wait out at the bar for you.” I have to strain my ears to hear her. “Take your time, little lady. I’ll be waiting.”

I can sniff a good girl out, and she’s definitely a good girl, but can I get her to be a bad girl tonight?

I head down to the bar and take it upon myself to flip the closed sign on and click the locks. She’s not used to closing up the bar because somebody else normally does this, and tonight, for whatever reason, she’s been left alone to do it, and look what happens.

I happen.

I take a slow look around the bar. It’s fitted out in wood and leather. A real old school kind of small town bar, with an old school kind of jukebox in the corner. The music has stopped, so I walk over to it, feeling around my pockets for a handful of coins, and I punch in several songs. The jukebox comes to life, clicking and whirring, and “One Of These Nights” by The Eagles starts playing.

I could have ducked behind the bar and gotten a couple of beers, but I don’t want to appear more than who I want her to see. I want in her pants, and being Edge, the Soulless Bastard, isn’t gonna cut it with this gal.

I take out my phone and text Hazard. I let him know I’ve arrived and I’ll be tidying everything up soon. Whisper will be meeting an untimely end. We discuss some club stuff back and forth, and then end our conversation. I delete the messages, so my phone is clean.

I’ve positioned myself so I can see when she comes back into the bar. The jukebox clicks away as it chooses the next song, “Are You Gonna Be My Girl” by Jet starts playing.

She walks in, looking around the empty bar until she locates where I’m seated. She makes a stop behind the bar and holds up two beers. I nod my head, and she brings them over. I don’t care about the brand; I just need a drink. I can see she’s showered and has put on a clean white tank top, a knitted black zip-up, little denim shorts, and flip-flops. I’m amused at the flip-flops.

“Slide on in, little lady.” I figure she’ll sit next to me, but instead, she sits across from me. “Do you talk?”

“Of course.” Her voice is so damn quiet against the jukebox playing in the background.

“Darlin’, you’re gonna have to speak up because I can’t hear you.” She slides the beer over to me and I hold it up to her. “Thank you,” I tell her, then take a deep swig.

She takes a long drink from her bottle and makes a little face while she looks about nervously. I need to go in for another swoop of getting her to trust me. This chick needs to chill. “Look, Sara, if you don’t want to talk and have a beer, that’s fine by me. I just thought you looked interesting and we might get along tonight.”

“No. You are great. It’s me. I’ve got a lot of things on my mind.” Her eyes turn to me, but can’t stay on me for too long. “I received some unwanted news today.”

“Is that what the pounding on the heavy bag was all about?”

She nods her head. “My trainer would be disappointed all his hard work went down the peach pit the minute he left me alone.”

Peach pit? I like this woman. “Is he your boyfriend?” Of course she would have somebody. I take a long swig out of my bottle, draining the contents. I’m about to cock-block my own dick and get out of here.

“Oh, no!” She laughs and I like the sound of it. “He’s more a father figure to me. He’s away for a few days, and I was just feeling a little tense. He will help me sort it all out when he gets back.”

I give my dick a mental double-thumbs-up, deciding maybe she’s worth the challenge tonight after all. It’s very rare a female doesn’t push herself on me, or rub her tits in my face when I invite her for a drink. Actually, it’s rare more than one woman isn’t vying for my attention at the same time. This is something new to me. She’s put a small chink in my ego.

When I’m hunting, I need to know when to back off and when to go in for the kill. This girl needs more effort, or else I will blow it before I can get to the finish line.

 

I’m going to be twenty-two in a few months, and I want to behave like other girls my age. I don’t know where I’ll be in ten years’ time, but for now, I’m happy being here, but I also want to grow up.

I have this man, who looks like he’s around thirty, sitting across from me. We’re doing a normal thing; we’re talking and having a beer. I’m alone with another male, and I’m okay with that. His body language is relaxed and pleasant.

We talk. I lie a lot because I need to keep my identity a secret. I can’t let that personal information out. I lie about my name, because I gave my real name to a stranger today, and now I’m saddled with a damning letter.

Tonight, I will be Sara, and she will help me move forward. I’m handing her the reins.

We talk about shallow things that are more a means to an end. I can see the interest in his eyes, and I can feel it in my body, how it responds to Edge sitting across from me.

I’ve watched enough movies to know how a guy makes small talk with a girl. I don’t mind that he’s doing it with me. He thinks I’m a mouse, but I have come a long way in eight months.

He’s very attractive and I’m charmed by him. I saw the way his eyes looked at me when I walked back into the bar. He wants a beer, but he likes what he sees too. He doesn’t frighten me.

Maybe he should?

He’s now taken his leather jacket and button up shirt off. He’s watching for a reaction. He looks more comfortable sitting here in his tight black t-shirt, which molds to his muscled torso. Tattoos cover his arms and he’s well built, strong.

I felt like he was testing me when he took off his button up, like he was trying to show me his true self, shedding a facade. He’s dressed one way, but then he sheds two layers and looks tougher and grittier, his tattoos exposed, his strength on display.

Boxer and Lincoln are both strong men with tattoos, and all they’ve done is protect me. I’m not intimidated by Edge. He keeps right on talking to me, and I’m okay to let my guard down and live a little.

I remind myself, Tonight, I am Sara.

We talk mainly about movies. That is our common ground. He’s courteous, finding an interest I’m happy to talk about. We both stay away from being too personal. We laugh easily together about some of the movies we have watched.