Page 24 of To No End

I set my drink down and offered him my thanks. “I…uh, appreciate what you did. Can I buy a round of drinks in gratitude?”

He stared out the window, not meeting my gaze, then turned back to me, answering irritably, “I think you’ve had enough to drink.”

His posture was tense and guarded. I finally relaxed a little, but he remained alert and kept scanning the rest of the room with his eyes. It’s like he was trying to look everywhere possible except directly at me.

While I did appreciate him intervening, I wasn’t about to let him continue to talk to me like a child.

“I think I can make my own decisions, so do you want a damn drink or not?” I asked through gritted teeth, trying to match his intensity.

He immediately stood up and turned his back to me, and I almost instinctively reached out to grab him, but he had already walked away. Disappointment began to sink in as I was now left alone in the booth with nothing but empty mugs, a mess of cards, and a pile of Lorcs.

Within a minute he returned, two beverages in hand. He placed a glass of water in front of me and an ale in front of him. “Drink,” was all he said.

His voice was demanding, and a part of me wanted to obey him, even if another wanted to push back against his commands. We both sat sipping in silence for what seemed like an awkward amount of time. If he didn’t want to interact with me, why was he still sitting here?

With the liquid courage still coursing through my system, I figured why not boldly ask, “Why were you watching me this entire time?”

He rolled his eyes in aggravation, taking another sip of his drink before responding.

“A young, pretty girl in a tavern gambling away a small fortune while drunk out of her wits…you had the attention of every male in here, whether you noticed it or not.”

I tried to conceal just how pleased I felt that he had referred to me as pretty.

He continued, “And when you decided to leave here in the sloppy state that you are in now, how did you think that was going to fare?”

I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I was having too much fun not caring and overthinking. He was probably right. I was being more than reckless, and I knew my safety was questionable given the situation and environment.

Instead of addressing the point that mattered, I ignored him and spat back, “I’m not young, I’m twenty-five.”

I watched as he clenched his teeth, holding back what might have been a laugh at my expense. While shaking his head he retorted, “My mistake, you’re clearly very mature.”

I ignored his icy words because this was the first time he actually looked at me directly. I adjusted my posture a little, trying not to appear like a slob.

“You know, my previous guest didn’t sit here and insult me the entire time. You haven’t even bothered to tell me your name.”

He took another giant swig of ale and I stared as his tongue grazed his lips, licking away the foam.

“Trace. My name is Trace.”

He leaned in closer across the table and I did the same to hear whatever quip came next, “And your previous guest insulted youthe entire evening by robbing you of all your money without so much as a second thought. Let’s not pretend you are a good judge of character.”

Our faces were much closer to one another now and my eyes tightened as I glared back at him. The audacity. I might have punched him if I wasn’t so tempted to kiss him, unable to avert my gaze from that beautiful mouth of his. It was infuriating.

I had never been spoken to like this. My whole life, everyone had calculated their words to ensure they never offended or misspoke to a member of the High Court. But Trace didn’t have a clue who I was, and I liked it that way. Maybe too much. It was in that singular moment where we just stared at one another, sparring with our gazes, that I decided this was the stranger I was going to seduce.

I softened my features and gently pulled my braid over my shoulder. I dipped my chin and looked up at him through my thick lashes. “I’m Cress.” I held my hand out palm up, licked my lips for good measure, and waited for him to meet my introduction.

He looked back and forth between me and my hand and let out a wicked smile. The first and only one I’d seen during our entire interaction. He slowly pulled the black leather glove from one hand and set it on top of mine.

He held his hand there for an uncomfortable amount of time. Long enough for me to notice the black ink vining across the top of his hand and leading up his sleeve. A tattoo. My mouth began to water a little with the intrigue of wanting to see all of it.

Our hands still touching, we were interrupted from our awkward haze by the mustached barkeep towering over our booth.

“Folks, it’s near closing time.”

We abruptly pulled our hands back from one another and Trace replaced his glove. I frantically looked out the window andsaw nothing but pitch black and moonslight. A sobering thought washed over me as I realized I had no idea how I was going to get home in the darkness. It was at least a few hours’ ride. I had gotten caught up in my antics and hadn’t even made a plan for the return.

In unison, we both turned to the barkeep and said, “I’ll take a room.”

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