Gaslight (Crossbreed #4)(42)

“You noticed me?”

“Couldn’t help but notice those pretty eyes of yours.”

Oh, yeah. This guy was a smooth talker all right.

“Why don’t I give you a ride home?” he offered. “It’ll give us a chance to talk. What’s your name?”

“Simone. I really shouldn’t. We don’t know each other.”

Yet it sounded like the best idea ever. What better way to get information on this guy? And people go home with strangers they meet at the club all the time. It’s the whole purpose of hooking up.

He led me through the parking lot, arm protectively around me. “I might look like a mean old grizzly, but I’m a teddy bear.”

“Do you come here a lot?”

“It gives me something to do. Not many bars around here have the kind of girls I like.”

“What kind is that?”

I nearly slipped, but he held me tight.

“Na?ve. I don’t mean that in a bad way, but it’s hard to find a sweet girl in a city like this. All the dames out there are jaded and bitter. I thought you were like the rest of them until you came up to my table. Girls don’t get shy like that unless they’re one of the good ones.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why do you wear those sunglasses?”

“It’s my trademark.”

It suddenly dawned on me that I’d left my clutch on the bar. Dammit! That stupid eyeliner pencil was my only weapon, though in all likelihood, it probably wasn’t even real wood, let alone the type of wood that would paralyze him. At least he couldn’t shadow walk in a lit parking lot.

I stopped in my tracks and gave him a loaded glance. Nope. Don’t even think about it, Raven. A Vampire can snap your arm in two.

Instead of sucker punching him and removing the shades, I reached up and cupped his furry face. His hair was a little darker than his beard—a dirty-blond with chestnut roots. Boomer didn’t resist my touch but fell into it. When I reached up and pulled on his glasses, he caught my wrists.

“I don’t like people touching those.”

“I like to look in a man’s eyes when I’m talking to him.”

Boomer forced my hands down. I did a circle maneuver that broke his grip and quickly plucked off his shades.

He bellowed and tried to grab them, but the glasses snapped in two. Before I knew what was happening, Boomer knocked me to the ground.

“You bitch!”

Couldn’t men come up with a more original word?

When I looked up at him, his lips peeled back in a snarl. Green eyes flashed back at me, and now I finally understood why he wore those damn shades.

Boomer wasn’t a Vampire. He was cross-eyed.

Headlights beamed on us, and someone moved in like a blur, shoving Boomer back several feet.

“What gives you the right?” the man shouted.

Boomer gave me the finger and stalked off, cursing under his breath.

When the stranger turned around, I recognized Chase and his stark white hair. Who would have thought that this guy would turn out to be the hero of the evening?

He knelt down beside me. “Did he hit you?”

“I slipped.”

“Bullshit.” He noticed the broken sunglasses. “I hope you got at least one good punch in.”

I wiped my wet hands on my leather pants. “I’m a pacifist. I don’t believe in violence.”

His lips twitched. “Let me help you up.”

I flicked a glance back at the club and saw Christian lingering by the door. I briefly held eye contact with him. “I’m fine. No need to make a fuss.”

Chase helped me to my feet and brushed flecks of ice off my shirt. “What a creep. Did he follow you out here or something?” Chase took my hand and turned it over. “Shit. You’re bleeding.”

Sure enough, the concrete had scraped a gash on the side of my hand. Nothing serious, but Chase was giving it his full attention. I’d forgotten how adorable humans could be.

“I’m ready to go, but I left my purse somewhere inside.”

I wasn’t talking to Chase, but he didn’t know that. Inside my clutch were also several hundred dollars and a phone I didn’t want to lose. Christian headed back in the building to find my things so we could leave.

Chase led me toward the passenger side of his car and opened the door. After opening the glove compartment, he pulled out a little first aid kit. “Here, take a seat and I’ll fix that up before it gets infected.”

“Really, it’s fine.”

“People spit, piss, and vomit in this parking lot all the time. The snow just brings it all up. Do you really want that all over your hands?”

On that note, I sat down facing Chase while he fumbled through the box, bandages littering the asphalt.

“I just want to help,” he said, trying to hold the box under one arm while he tore open a package with his teeth. “I can’t see what I’m doing. Let me come around the other side so I can put this stuff down and sit under the interior light.”

After I put my feet in, he closed the door and circled round the front. The headlights beamed on him, and it looked like he’d managed to get the wrapper off the antiseptic wipe. When he got in the car, he shoved the kit on the dash and held the wet cloth between two fingers.