Gaslight (Crossbreed #4)(33)

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked the blonde next to me.

“Um…”

I couldn’t see her face, but it sounded like she was terrified and uncertain. Maybe this guy was her last hope.

“What’s your name?” he asked, his deep voice rumbling like thunder.

“Denise. And you are?”

“Boomer.”

I snorted.

Boomer was the name of a three-legged Chihuahua my childhood neighbor once owned. Before the lady died from a stroke, she used to come over to our trailer with her dog under one arm and oatmeal cookies in the other hand. She didn’t seem to mind my daddy’s surly demeanor or the fact he’d lock himself in the bathroom each time she appeared at our door.

When Boomer glared over his shoulder at me, I caught my reflection in his wraparound sunglasses. I bet Claude would have loved to shave off this guy’s thick, blondish beard. It practically had room in there for spare keys and a phone.

Boomer and Denise made an odd pairing, but they chatted for a while. Maybe it was the tight pants she wore or the copious amount of perfume, but Boomer was so enamored by her that he didn’t care that his big ass was all brushed up against me. He was acting as if this was his turf, yet he didn’t exactly blend in with the other men hanging around the club. Could this be our Vampire?

I decided to sit back and observe.

As Boomer stepped away, Denise slid off her stool and winked at me. “Good luck,” she whispered, as if we were part of some secret club of women who were desperately hoping to find true love in a bar.

Though I had to laugh, considering where Christian and I had first met.

My attention wandered about the room as I searched for possible suspects. When I turned back around, I caught a flash of someone’s arm moving away from my basket. I looked left at a man with fat chipmunk cheeks. He held a casual pose and attempted to smile with a mouthful of food.

I shoved my basket of uneaten pizza rolls toward him.

With a sheepish grin, he scratched the back of his head. “Didn’t think you’d mind,” he said, attempting to swallow what he’d already pilfered.

“They’re all yours if you’ve got an iron stomach.”

“I saw the guy bring them around a half hour ago and came this close to ordering some,” he said, holding his thumb and index finger an inch apart.

“Decided to wait and see if I survived?”

He gobbled up another. “Exactly.” After wiping his hand across his shirt, he held it out, displaying black nail polish on his fingernails. “I’m Chase.”

When I shook his hand, my real name almost slipped out. “Simone.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady Simone. I shan’t be bothering you a moment longer.”

He stood up with the basket in hand and took a quick glance around before grabbing a half-empty beer bottle that someone had left behind. Torn jeans were in fashion, so it wasn’t easy to ascertain if he was down on his luck or stylish. But his scavenger ways reminded me a lot of myself not so long ago.

“Do you normally take a lady’s food and run?” I quipped.

He peered at me over his shoulder. “Was I rude?”

I waved my hand. “I don’t care. Just giving you a hard time.”

While the music thumped loudly, he stared at me for a beat, his hazel eyes flickering between a greenish and brown hue. He set the basket on the bar beside me. “Women don’t tease men without a reason. There’s always an ulterior motive behind it. I wasn’t trying to be rude; I just hate to see food go to waste.”

“It’ll go to waste if you leave it there, so do what you want.” I tucked my fist against my cheek. “You remind me of someone I used to know.”

He held the rim of the beer bottle just below his mouth. “By the look on your face, I’m guessing it’s you?”

Christian eased up out of nowhere and tugged my arm, dragging me out of my seat. “Care to dance?”

Chase stood up and captured my other arm. “Should I step in? ’Cause I’ll totally step in.”

Christian let go and clenched his jaw. “If you want to step outside like gentlemen, then I’ll lead the way.”

My partner wasn’t asking to dance. It was Christian’s subtle way of telling me he was ready to blow this joint. Honestly, so was I.

I left a tip on the bar. “It’s all right, boys. I was on my way out anyhow. Better luck next time.”

“For feck’s sake,” Christian muttered, stalking off as if he didn’t know me.

I grabbed my purse and headed toward the door.

“Wait!” Chase called out.

I turned around. A spotlight beamed on Chase, brightening his white hair, which was styled in every direction.

He handed me my leather jacket. “Sorry if I made that weird.”

I took the jacket and saw the honesty in his eyes. He seemed like the kind of guy you could easily befriend over a beer. “Do you come here often?”

He snickered. “Often enough.”

“Maybe I’ll see you again.” I turned and walked away.

“See you when I see you!” he yelled over the music.

Getting to know the regulars wasn’t a bad idea. They noticed people who stood out—especially other regulars.