Page 1 of Wingless Crow: Part 1

ChapterOne

“Don’t look just yet, but the hot guy on the other end of the bar is checking you out.” Diane made big eyes, staring straight at me but tilting her head slightly to the right, where the man she was talking about must be sitting behind me.

As a rule, random hot guys didn’t “check me out” for any good reason.

“Yeah, I left my pen in my hair.” I yanked my ball pen out of the messy bun it held. My thick, chestnut hair unraveled, falling over my shoulders. It’d been making me hot in the office, so I’d used the pen to hold it up when my hair elastic broke. “He must be wondering what weirdo would come to the bar like that. Either that or he’s just staring at those girls over there.” I tipped my chin at a flock of giggling college girls at the table that would probably be in the hot guy’s direct line of view if I wasn’t sitting in the way.

Diane didn’t look convinced. Her excitement didn’t dim a bit.

“Nope. I think he likes you.”

“Then he couldn’t be that hot,” I quipped.

There were far more attractive targets for a hot guy to stare at in this bar. It was Friday night. Most women were dressed nicely, with their hair done properly. They wore full make-up and smelled like fruit and flowers.

I was still in my work clothes—a simple dress and a gray cardigan I knitted years ago in high school, back when I had enough time for hobbies. I probably smelled like ink cartridges, dusty cubicle walls, and microwaved food. My hair was a mess, even without the ball pen stuck in it.

“He must be desperate if he thinks I’m his only option.”

Diane rolled her eyes. “Fine. But would it kill you to smile if he comes over?”

I stretched my lips into something that probably resembled a tired, miserable scowl rather than a flirty smile.

“Whatever…” She waved her hand at me, giving up. “Play hard to get. Maybe he’s into that.”

I was too tired to play anything. It’d been a hard day at work. A hard week… A hard year, dammit. I’d worked late into the night today and was going back to the office first thing in the morning, despite it being Saturday tomorrow. I was too numb from exhaustion to even think about flirting. Trying to impress a hot guy felt like a chore at this point.

Sipping her wine, Diane slid another furtive glance over my shoulder.

“Well, he’s still looking at you. God, he’s so fucking hot.” She moaned softly then clicked her tongue in appreciation. “You know in that rugged, dangerous kind of way. He’s huge too. Must be a bodybuilder.”

Diane and I weren’t close friends, just coworkers who happened to live in the same apartment building and walked home together once in a while. She didn’t know that bodybuilders weren’t my type. Not that I had a type. But if I did, I didn’t think bodybuilders would be it. It was safe to say I wasn’t their type, either.

Despite that, curiosity stirred in me. I wished to steal a look at the guy, too.

“Uh-oh!” Diane gasped under her breath. “He’s coming over here.”

“He is?” Panic jolted me like an electric shock. It’d been forever since I’d spoken to a guy who was in any way interested in me. What the hell was I supposed to say?

I flicked my hair over my shoulder, then nervously tugged at my ear.

Did the pen leave ink marks on my neck or ear?

I drew in a long breath, trying to get my nerves under control. Maybe I could tell him a joke? I liked making people laugh. Even a bad joke could ease the tension of a first date and help break the ice. Unfortunately, I was too tired to come up with even a bad joke right now. My brain had been wrung out during the long day at the office.

But then again, this wasn’ta date.The guy was probably coming over here to ask for my pen to write down another girl’s phone number.

As pathetic as the thought was, it calmed me down instantly. Of course, that would be it. There was no other reason for him to come over here. Men didn’t get attracted to women after seeing only the back of their heads, anyway.

Diane chugged the rest of her wine.

“Listen, I need to go to the bathroom. Don’t fuck this up.” She slid off her barstool and sauntered toward the bathroom to the left of the bar.

“Don’t fuck this up?”I mumbled under my breath. “I wish I knew how…”

“Hi, gorgeous.” A deep masculine voice rolled over me like honey, peppering my skin with goosebumps.

The barstool behind me squeaked as someone large and heavy, someone who smelled like spice and male, sat down on it.

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