Page 5 of Bloody Seven

"You looked a little lovestruck for a moment." He raises his brows with confidence. This smug bastard.

"I was not," I say way too defensively. I don’t even believe myself.

"If you say so." He laughs again, and this time, I notice the dimples on both sides of his cheeks.

No, stop it, I tell myself and glare in his direction. "I was just trying to figure out what to order. Is this how you treat all of your customers? What would your owner think of that?"

"Only the pretty ones." He steps out of view to fiddle with something. "And I am the owner, so I would say he doesn't mind one bit."

My jaw practically drops to the floor. I would have never guessed he was the owner. "Fine. What do you recommend?"

"Just hang on a sec. I'll give you the best thing this place has to offer. You can thank me for it after."

“Should I be concerned? That sounded kind of forward."

"Get that mind out of the gutter, cupid."

"Stop calling me that," I say as he comes back into view with a sandwich in hand.

"No allergies, right?" he asks.

The question startles me for a moment. He might be the first person to show me even the tiniest bit of concern in years. I'm usually invisible to everyone.

I wish I was still friends with Lilly at times like this. We could gossip about the cute bagel boy, and how this whole conversation is embarrassingly awkward, but I pushed her away. My life isn't important. It's better that my personal things stay on the back burner until I'm able to fulfill my promise to Drew.

"No," I grit out.

"Try this, and if you don't like it, it's free. If you do like it, then you have to meet me at a party tonight because your money's no good here."

"And what if I don't want to meet you at a party tonight?" I counter, refusing to grab the sandwich from his hand just yet.

This could be the perfect opportunity to set up my kill for tomorrow. I could kill him in some dark parking lot after we leave whatever party he wants me to go to, and he proves to be a scumbag. Lust would be the sin to just willingly walk itself directly into my knife.

"It's an 'I hate Valentine's Day’ party if that makes the decision any easier."

"I do hate Valentine's Day," I confess, letting a bit of vulnerability slip out without even thinking. Immediately, I put my walls in place and eye him again.

"Make a choice, cupid," he says while waving the sandwich in my face. "It smells good, doesn't it?"

I reach up and snatch it from his hand. "You don't have a New York accent," I point out as I inspect the strange food.

"Sure don't. I've only been in the city for a few years. I went to college here and decided to stay after graduation. I'm originally from eastern Ohio."

That takes me back a little. Ohio? I suppose this city is full of people from all over, but when you go into bagel shops thatare as well-known as this one, they're usually family-owned and passed on from generation to generation. It takes balls to be an outsider trying to open a shop with something this city deems as sacred.

He watches me intently as I bring the sandwich to my mouth for a taste, and when a soft moan leaves me, his gaze flicks to my lips. My eyes widen with immediate regret and I chew as fast as possible.

"So, I take it you enjoyed that bite?" A nice smug tone meets my ears.

Fuck. I hate admitting someone else is right. "It was alright."

"Alright? That moan suggested otherwise."

"I did not moan." A lie, I know.

"You most definitely did, and if there wasn't a counter between us, I might be tempted to do something about it."

"Careful, I'm not like most girls. I will throat punch you before you even see it coming. You would be on the ground begging for me to go easy on you."

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