I’m halfway into sort of hating myself for sounding that way when I see the effect of my response on Sel’s expression. The surprise and frustration and heat, all rolled into one. He holds my gaze like he owns it. I don’t want to look away, but I couldn’t if I tried. The floor beneath me dips, and the sounds around us grow muffled. My heart picks up, and even in a corridor rocked by thumping bass and distant voices, his ear tilts, listening to my pulse. Somehow, in this moment, I am filling Sel’s senses the same way he fills mine.

“I suppose it doesn’t really matter,” I whisper. “Does it?”

His eyes dart down to my lips and my breath catches. His own mouth parts, the tips of his fangs just visible atop his lower lips. Without warning, he ducks his head and pulls me toward him simultaneously, and draws a breath near my throat. His voice is a hoarse rasp below my chin, a tease and warning both. “You are still asking questions that you do not truly want me to answer.”

“What if I do want you to answer?” I reply, bold.

“Then I would say you look… devourable,” he murmurs. “And that, for me, is something I don’t wish to share in mixed company. For many, many reasons.”

I swallow. “Many reasons?”

An intake of breath. “A great many.”

Abruptly, his hand is gone, leaving my back cold in its absence. He stands upright and doesn’t look at me again. My insides feel like those damn neon signs over the doorways. Flashing desire, delight half-lit, buzzing, bright. And a layer of guilt that tries to sour it all, and fails.

Alice emerges from the bathroom and breaks the spell, and I switch places with her eagerly.

Surprisingly, the space is clean. Much cleaner than whatever the gas station bathroom would have been, I’m sure. There are even scented soaps and a stack of fluffy hand towels to choose from. I splash my face with water and try to regain my sense of balance, but all I can think of are Sel’s “many reasons”… and the voice inside of me that wants nothing more than for him to list each reason out, one by one.

When I exit, Sel and Alice are speaking quickly in harsh tones, facing one of the doors with frosted glass a few feet away. He’s at my side in a blink, his face dark with anger as he starts walking. “We need to get back to the table.”

I have to jog to catch up. “Why do you both look like you’ve just swallowed an eel or something?”

“Worse than that,” Alice replies, eyes looking over our shoulders.

Sel answers through gritted teeth. “Look at the signs next to the doors.”