Page 40 of Moonlit Thorns

“My pleasure.” He walks around to stand at the opposite side of the table, then briefly glances at his expensive watch. “Would you mind if I joined you for a bit?”

“Of course not. Have a seat.” I motion to the empty chair across from me.

He pulls out the chair in one smooth motion, smiling across the table at me. “What’s your name?”

“Anabelle.” I might want to hook up tonight, but I’m not going to give this guy any more information than he needs.

I had a one-night stand my second year in college, and the guy found me on socials because I’d given him my full name. He wouldn’t stop messaging me for weeks before he took the hint that I didn’t want anything more than our one night together.

“Preston. Pleasure.” He holds his hand out over the table and I shake it. When I try to pull my hand away, he holds onto it. Our eyes catch and snag, and when the corner of his lips tip up, he finally releases my hand. “I’ll go get us some fresh drinks. What would you like?”

I give him my order and watch as he walks over to the bar. I’m not sure about him. There’s no doubt he’s attractive, and he seems interested, but I hate this unsettled feeling when he looks at me.

That’s probably just my Asher brain talking, because Preston doesn’t make me want to strip my clothes off and do whatever he says upon seeing him. There’s no harm in having one drink with him and feeling him out before I decide whether I want to go home with him or not.

Preston returns and sets my drink in front of me, seeming to opt for straight whiskey himself. “So, Anabelle. What is it that you do for a living?” He leans back in his seat, the picture of relaxed sophistication.

How to answer that? I’m not about to tell him about my deal with Asher, so instead I say, “I was interning at a small publisher in Nashville, but I had to return home to see to some family matters.” I bring my drink to my lips and sip from it.

“Interning? How old are you?”

“Twenty-two.”

“Good. Had to make sure you’re legal.” He winks and sips from his drink.

A nervous chuckle leaks out, and I take another sip.

“What publisher were you working at?” he asks.

When I tell him, he seems to know a little about them. We chat about what direction I’m hoping for my career to take once I’ve resolved my family issues, and he seems to know a little about publishing, but when I ask him what he does for a living, he’s vague.

I finish my drink and lean my chin on my fist as I look across the table at him. At first, I wasn’t sure about him, but I think he might be a good guy. A good distraction at the very least.

“So, do you have a boyfriend, Anabelle?” He finishes his own drink and slides the glass to the middle of the table.

“Pfft. Not at all.” I shake my head, still pressed against my fist, and have to close my eyes for a second when the sensation of my head swimming hits me.

He smiles wide. “You sound like a woman scorned.”

I shrug as best I can. “Maybe. Maybe I’m just a dumb girl who fell for the wrong guy.”

Preston pushes his chair back and stands from the table.

Wait, where is he going? He’s supposed to be my distraction tonight.

But instead of leaving, he walks around the table and comes to my side. “I’m headed to a party that might be just what you need. Care to join me?”

I lift my hand from my fist and smile up at him. “Absolutely.”

This is exactly what I need. A little bit of fun to get my mind off everything I don’t want to think about.

He helps me stand, and I have to clutch him for a moment before I get my bearings and can stand on my own. “Oops, sorry.”

“No worries.” He wraps his arm around my waist, and we make our way to the door.

My limbs feel heavy when I walk, but I figure it must just be from the extra hard run I did this morning. I should have drunk more water.

He leads me to the vehicle I saw him get out of, and I realize it’s one of the same types of blacked-out SUVs that travel up to Midnight Manor once a month. I debate asking where we’re going, but I really don’t care.

---