Fade Out (The Morganville Vampires #7)(26)

A light chuckle slips from my mouth. “So. How about it?” I duck my head, attempting to capture her gaze. Finally, she looks at me. And those big amber eyes ensnare me. “Like, an old school date where I pick you up and take you somewhere nice. I have this event thing…uh. It’s not really a big deal, but I kind of need a date.”

Her face screws up. “So that’s it. You need a date, and what, all the Ryder groupies are otherwise unavailable?”

I exhale a heavy breath. Do I just speak Greek to her? Does nothing I say come out the way I plan it in my head? “That’s not it, Ari. I’d rather not go to this thing, but I figure it’s a nice, classy place, and it will be public.” I have the sudden desire to reach out and take her hand; I ball mine into a fist near my thigh. “Lots of people. No worries of me trying to get you alone…or anything.”

I swear, I see her face flush. Her gaze flicks to the table. “I’ll think about it,” she says.

“No time.” I duck my head again to pull her gaze to me. “It’s tonight.”

She laughs. “You want me to give you an answer now?” Her lips spread into an easy smile, making my chest tighten. “You do realize I’m a woman, right?”

“I may have taken note of that, yes.” My smile is so wide, my cheeks ache.

“And it takes like, just a little time for a woman to figure out the fine necessities of what to wear…especially to an event. Get her hair did, nails done, not eat bloaty foods for the whole day beforehand—”

“You look perfect. Wear whatever’s in your closet. And if you don’t have anything, which I seriously doubt—” I look over her nice, soft pink sweater and expensive black slacks “—then I’ll take you shopping first.”

Her full lips turn down at the corners. For a second, I think I’ve said the wrong thing, but then she shakes her head lightly, her loose curls spilling around her shoulders. “You’ve got this all worked out, don’t you?”

I nod once. “I do. Any way you try to get out of it, any excuse you throw at me, I have a counter offer. Just say yes and end my torment.” And I’m only half joking. If she continues to shoot me down, I might start to seriously question my sanity.

She sighs, long and deep, and the sultry sound of it slides over my skin. I’d love to hear what sound she makes while…

“All right.”

My thoughts rebound. “All right?”

She laughs. “If this turns out to be some joke at my expense—”

“I’d never,” I say, cutting her off from that train of thought. “Cross my heart.” I run my finger over my chest, literally crossing my heart.

Her head tilts to the side, her teeth biting at her bottom lip, which does something agonizing to me, as she considers this. “Deal. One date. What time?”

I clap my hands together. “I’ll pick you up at eight. Oh—” I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone. “Your number.” I glance up to witness her pinched brows. The cute little line between them. I want to run my thumb down it, smooth away the frown. “I may need to call you at some point.”

With a resigned nod, she brings out her own phone. “What’s yours?” She punches in the numbers as I recite them off. Then my phone beeps with a text message.

I smile down at the message on the screen: A new number for your little black book.

As I look up at her, the urge to touch her barrels through me with alarming force. I distract my hands by slipping my phone in my pocket, pulling my gaze away from her. I take note of Gavin and Laney watching me. Haley and Vanessa standing near the vending machines, sneaking glances our way. Actually, we’ve captured most of the lunchroom’s attention.

And I’m not the only one who notices. Ari’s shoulders tense as she peeks up from her phone. She doesn’t like the attention, and I can’t say that I blame her. I’ve learned to deal with it, ignore it, for the most part. But this girl, who I’ve come to understand is pretty shy, probably can’t brush it off as easily.

“Hey,” I say, and she flinches, as if she forgot I was here. “It’s me, not you.”

She looks at me. “What?”

Subtly, I nod toward the room over her shoulder. “They’re all watching me. Not you, okay? So just ignore them.” Then, because I can’t stand it one second longer, I reach out under the table to lay my hand on her knee, squeeze reassuringly.

The delicate column of her throat bobs. “I don’t like attention.”

“I know.” I keep my hand on her for as long as she allows me. “It’s not like this everywhere. They’re just nosy bastards.”

This draws a throaty laugh from her. My guts unclench. I didn’t even realize how tense I was until this second. Worried she’d change her mind—that the QB status shit already scared her off.

“I can do that,” she says. “Ignore it. I mean, it’s the same thing in my family. My father gets a lot of attention, and I’ve learned to shrink into the background.” She shrugs.

Hell no. That’s not what I want, either. For this woman to be some wallflower around me. This sudden knowledge, an insight into her world, grips me with acute force. “Don’t do that,” I say.

Her eyebrows rise.