Page 8 of Fang Girl

“So you said you are studying journalism. Will you be one of the paparazzi chasing us around town?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” I said with a grin. I certainly had my own secret network with the ghosts, so I’d probably have all the best tips. I took a sip of my wine.

“You can chase me anytime,” he said.

I nearly choked on my wine. “Really?”

His grin widened. Then Victor took a sip of his wine, watching me over the rim of his glass. "But enough about me. Tell me about your journalism. What kind of stories do you want to write?"

I hesitated. Usually, this was where I had to start censoring myself, hiding the ghost thing. But something about the empty restaurant, the absence of spirits, and Victor's earnest attention made me bold. "Human interest stories, actually. There are so many untold stories out there... if you know where to look."

"And you do?" he asked, leaning closer.

"I might," I said, trying to match his flirty tone while my heart raced. "I have my sources."

"Again, so mysterious," he said, his voice dropping lower. "I like it."

The waiter appeared with my food, breaking our moment. I couldn’t help but notice that nothing came for Victor. Hadn’t he told me he’d already ordered?

"Aren't you hungry?" I asked, noticing his empty place setting.

"I had a big lunch," he said, his voice dropping lower. "Besides, I'm more interested in our conversation."

I was distracted by his fingers tracing patterns on the stem of his wine glass.

He continued, "Tell me more about these sources of yours.”

As we talked, the space between us seemed to shrink. Every time he leaned forward, I caught his scent—something dark and masculine that made my pulse quicken. When our hands brushed reaching for the wine, electricity sparked between us. His cool touch lingered longer each time, until finally he just kept his hand over mine, his thumb stroking my wrist.

“What about you?” I asked as I wiped my mouth. Dinner had been delicious. “How’d you get into this whole rock star gig?”

“Well, you know I sang in a band in school.”

I nodded. I hadn’t been able to see them perform too often, but they had played for a couple school events. His voice was incredible and there were usually a few swooning girls in the front rows. Not that different from now.

“I started college, but it just wasn’t for me,” he said. “I met Basil and the guys about halfway through my freshman year, and they were in need of a lead singer.”

“Lucky.”

He shrugged. “It just worked out.”

“And you like it?” I asked.

“I love it,” he said. “It's almost everything I ever wanted.”

“Almost?” I was feeling brave.

He leaned forward with an intensity in his green eyes. "You know, I always wanted to talk to you in high school.”

"But you didn't," I said, then immediately regretted my bluntness.Way to kill the mood, Ari.

To my surprise, his expression softened with a vulnerability I'd never seen from him before. "No, I didn't. I was a coward back then—too caught up in what everyone else thought to admit I had a crush on the most interesting girl in school."

My breath hitched.I’d been interesting?

He reached across the table, taking my hand. "I used to watch you in the hallways, always listening to music, living in your own world. I wanted so badly to be part of it."

Heat bloomed in my cheeks. "The most popular guy in school had a crush on Creepy Ari?"

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