Page 28 of She is the Darke

She didn’t understand what he meant until the guy said, “You’re supposed to be single to do the speed-dating. It was posted on the registration. You both signed it.”

“Is there a problem?” the announcer asked.

“Um, yeah,” Demi murmured to Tyler, leaning closer to him. “I have a problem with you pretending we’re dating.”

“Who said I’m pretending,” he ground out, and his eyes sparked with an intensity that drew her up short.

Wait…what?

“Can I write down your mask, and talk to you outside after this?” the guy asked.

“Yes,” Demi said at the same time Tyler said, “No.”

She offered him ahave-you-lost-your-mindlook, because clearly, he had.

“Why are you messing with me?” she asked low, and his face softened.

Tyler inhaled sharply and eased back. He ran his hand down the scruff of his face, and shook his head. “I don’t know. Shit, I’m sorry.” He stared at her for a few moments, and then stood abruptly. “Sorry,” he muttered again, and then left. Just…walked out.

Demi could feel every ounce of attention on him as he strode out, and then two of the ladies a few chairs ahead of her in the speed-dating event got up and walked out after him.

There was this little feeling in her middle. This little sliver of frustration at how brazen those women chasing after him had been. And she could imagine it—imagine him sitting up at the bar and being bombarded by their immediate attention. She didn’t like it.

The guy sat down, but the announcer said “Time,” almost immediately.

“I’m going to order us some food,” she murmured to Rachel.

“Extra pickles on my burger.”

“Gross,” she muttered, gathering her jacket and purse.

“I’ll give you two extra hugs this week if you order extra pickles on yours, too, and give them all to me,” Rachel rushed out.

“Fine.”

“That’s why we’re best friends,” Rachel explained to the tall guy who was taking a seat in front of her.

“Because you know how to share pickles?” the guy asked conversationally.

On that note, Demi made her way out, leaving her bestie to charm all the men in the room.

Out in the big room, she looked around, but she didn’t see Tyler immediately. She walked through the crowd, pushing up on her tiptoes every few steps, searching for him. The band was playing now, and they sounded good. The band was covering popular songs, and had a great lead singer and drummer. She would love it if she wasn’t feeling so stressed right now. That part, she couldn’t explain. Tyler was grown, he could go wherever he wanted, and talk to whomever he wanted.

So why the panic in her chest as the seconds dragged on and she couldn’t find him?

It was really tight with the crowd, but she aimed for the front door and caught a glimpse of Tyler leaving. Shoot!

“Excuse me, pardon me,” she said as she pushed her way through any opening in the crowd she could.

She made it to the door just as she saw who he was leaving with. One of the girls from the speed dating room in a shimmering gold mask was following closely behind him.

Demi stumbled to a stop, stunned. This feeling inside of her was awful—deep, and gritty, and churning like trapped smoke.

Tyler didn’t look back, just left with that woman, and time slowed. Someone bumped her from the side, and she moved out of the way. She could clearly see him walking in front of that woman outside in the parking lot.

He was leaving with someone else.

He’d successfully shaken her up. He’d messed with her head, and then was taking some random woman home.

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