River of Shadows (Underworld Gods #1)(100)

The man staring right at me, gaze burning deep into mine, even from across the room.

That feeling of breathlessness returns.

My skin feels too tight, too hot.

The blood pounds dangerously hard in my veins.

But instead of feeling fear, I feel complete fascination.

This is the most gorgeous human being I’ve ever seen.

Creature, the voice in my head pipes up. Gorgeous creature.

Yeah, somehow that seems more fitting, because there’s something definitely otherworldly about this guy.

He’s tall, broad-shouldered, big. Naturally built like a truck.

But his face is pure masculine elegance.

Square jaw, full lips, straight nose, facial hair that’s artfully groomed yet scruffy. Arched low-set black brows that keep his penetrating blue eyes in the shadows. His hair is black, wavy and long, almost to his chin. He’s like if Aragon from Lord of the Rings just walked in here wearing a three-piece black suit and red tie. His clothes scream money.

“Wow, I’d definitely rate her a ten,” I hear Elle say.

This can’t be the man who was following me, can it?

“Her?” I repeat absently, unable to look away from the man’s gaze. I’m completely captive in it.

I want him to know my name.

“Yeah,” she says. “What are you staring at?”

It takes all my effort to blink and look at Elle, and the moment I do, my blood runs cold, the connection severed.

“You don’t see that man?” I whisper, finding it hard to talk.

I look back to the door, but he’s gone.

“Who, the scrawny dude who just walked in with the inexplicably hot girlfriend?” she asks.

I get to my feet and step out of the booth, looking around. Where the hell did he go? “There was a guy here. By himself. I was…we were looking at each other.”

“Okaaay,” Elle says. “What did he look like? He must have been Oscar Isaac-worthy to get you out of your seat like that.”

I shake my head, not understanding it. Not only where he went, but what came over me. That wasn’t normal. I’ve never had my body react like that to anyone before. Maybe that’s what I’ve been missing. It’s not enough to just find someone hot or attractive, but to find yourself attracted on some other realm.

Realm? Okay, calm down, I tell myself, forcing myself to sit back down. You’re getting a bit woo-woo here.

“Lenore?” Elle prods me. “How old was he?”

“I…I don’t know. Maybe thirty-five? Forty?”

She scoffs. “You and your older men. No wonder you’re so picky. And no wonder he didn’t stick around. Probably stepped in here and realized we’re all a bunch of youngins. The man can’t party.”

She’s right. The mystery man probably figured out pretty fast that this wasn’t his scene. I mean, yeah, it looks cool, but if you look closely you’ll see how cheap and rough around the edges this place is. It’s all for show.

Still, the disappointment in my chest is palpable.

“Do you think it was the guy following you?” she asks.

I glance at her. Her interest is piqued again. “I don’t know. This man was wearing a suit. The other one was wearing a long coat. I think.”

“A suit?” she exclaims, pressing her fingers into the table. “Since when do you go after men in suits?”

“Since never,” I say. It’s true. I have a very specific type. Black leather jackets, boots, white t-shirts, tattoos, maybe a bit of eyeliner. Matt fits the description to a T. This man did not.

But maybe my type’s been wrong this whole time.

“I think you dodged a bullet there, Lenore,” she says. “Men in suits don’t usually go for girls with tattoos. Believe me, I know.”

She’s probably right. It’s not like I’m covered head-to-toe, but I have a lot for someone my age. My parents have tattoos and they’ve always been strangely encouraging toward me getting them. And as long as I ruminate on what I want and what they mean to me, making sure it’s something special, they’ve even given me the money to do it. I know it’s pretty rare to have that kind of support, so I’ve definitely run with it. Tattoos and jewelry, those are my trademarks.

Matt comes back with our drinks, pulling me out of my head for a moment. We make a toast to the semester almost being done. Matt went to Stanford for one year, met his start-up buddies, and dropped out (which seems to be the popular thing to do around here), but he still sympathizes. Then Elle tells him all about my supposed stalker and the hot guy in the suit, and I swear I see his jaw tighten a little, like the fact that I showed an interest in another guy bothers him.

But I don’t dwell on that too much. The more I think about our relationship, the weirder it gets. Better to just take it at face value.

We end up staying at The Cloister for a couple of hours, until I’m pretty buzzed. But I know I need to do some studying tomorrow, so I don’t want to be totally hungover.

“I’m going to go,” I say, grabbing my purse and sliding out of the bench.

Matt reaches out and grabs my wrist. “Wait,” he says. “I’ll walk you.”

I give him a quick smile, taking my wrist back. “I’m fine. I’m going to get an Uber. Don’t worry.”