Page 33 of Fated Mates and How to Seduce Them
Felix nodded knowingly. “You’re afraid the girls will try to ambush me again.”
“A little,” Ian admitted with a shrug.
Felix tapped a slender finger against the table before suggesting, “Well, why don’t you come with me to meet up with Benedict? You can show him the video you shot.”
“I didn’t catch the worst of what she said. Why? Do you think he needs to see it to believe you?”
“Psssh, he’ll believe me. But the video will set off all of his protective instincts.” Felix let out a dreamy sigh as he sipped his coffee. “Benedict in full white knight mode is incredibly sexy.”
Why did Ian get the distinct impression Felix sometimes hit Benedict’s buttons just to reap the benefits? Should Ian aid and abet this?
Felix added, oh so innocently, “In return, you can ask him about André’s grand plan to get you on a date. It will be quite the event.”
Damn, he wanted this intel. Ian eyed him suspiciously. “You are skilled at maneuvering people around to get what you want.”
Felix blinked innocent eyes and said, “I do try.”
Chapter 10
It turned out André’s grand date scheme was to take Ian to some formal gala as his date, to make some elaborate, public display like his brother had done with Felix. When Ian learned of this, he put his foot down. Firmly. No way in hell was he going to some fancy event to be put on display. André had pouted, offered bribes, and made his best puppy eyes, but the idea of meeting André’s parents at a formal event and being introduced to the world on their first date had sent Ian’s nerves jittering so hard they nearly left his body. Right after finals happened, too, with his nerves still jangling from exams? Honey bunches of nope, that was not happening.
As he stared out of the dark bus window, his mind revisited the moment two weeks ago, before their shared class, of André asking with a bouquet of flowers and pure hope. Ian had thought of everything that could go wrong with a formal night out and spluttered out a firmno. He hadn’t meant for it to come across as a rejection of André himself, but unfortunately his nerves had been rattling too much in the moment to get proper words out, to explain why notthatparticular night. Just remembering the utter disappointment on André’s face felt like a serrated stab in the heart. André had started out so hopeful in the conversation, trying to allay Ian’s fears while asking him on such a momentousdate. But in the end, because Ian hadn’t been able to get a few more damn words out, André had slumped in on himself and mumbled “okay” before pasting on an obviously fake smile and handing him the bouquet, saying it was time for class.
For André, it clearly hadn’t been “okay.” Ian had hated disappointing him, but he couldn’t shake the crippling anxiety at the thought of going. Couldn’t imagine himself in a tux, swirling a glass of champagne and making small talk with politicians.
He’d be worse than a fish out of water—he’d be a fish in a live volcano.
It hadn’t been wise, but Ian had tried again after class to explain his feelings. All André heard was another rejection, so they’d parted ways with a tense goodbye. He’d gone back to “normal” the next day, texting Ian like nothing had happened, but Ian couldn’t dismiss André’s look of pure disappointment from his mind’s eye.
And thanks to end of semester exams and projects, they hadn’t been able to meet like usual since then, so Ian hadn’t found a chance to re-explain, and he couldn’t bring himself to explain through text. So instead he let the anxiety keep him awake, regretting this limbo of insecurity and self-loathing he found himself in. Now, two weeks later, Ian sorely regretted declining. The event was that very night, and the idea of André choosing someone else as his escort sat like a vile pill in the back of Ian’s throat that he couldn’t swallow. Ian still didn’t think he could have handled going—he felt butterflies duking it out in his stomach just thinking about it—but…André wouldn’t have taken someone else. Would he?
Ian sat back in the bus seat and sighed. It was about time to face the truth, for his own sake if not for André’s.
Truthfully, he liked André. He was utterly charmed by the man; there was no pretending otherwise. His own doubts and insecurities kept him from taking the hand offered to him. Andréhad assured him, time and again, that it would be all right. His parents wouldn’t reject Ian or try to force him to leave André. Ian believed André believed it.
But was it the truth?
Part of the internal struggle was Ian had never felt this strongly about a person before. He’d dated, been attracted to people, but he’d never felt so strongly connected to a person. Like a hook inside his chest kept drawing him to André. It made no sense. Normally, if he couldn’t see a happy ending, he’d not start dating the person. He’d been frank enough with André on that. But, despite the fact he couldn’t see a good outcome to their dating, or that the idea of becoming a vampire terrified him, he couldn’t seem to end it with André.
It felt…wrong. To deny him. To deny them both. Like using logic in this instance was precisely the wrong choice. Ianyearnedfor this man, thrilled at even the smallest brush of André’s fingers, and he couldn’t deny it anymore.
If given the choice, if Ian knew for a fact he could have André without opposition, he wouldn’t hesitate. He’d accept the man and end this limbo once and for all.
The old question ofWhat would you do if you could not fail?popped into his head.
Everything.
He’d do everything.
He shouldn’t hesitate any longer. Wasn’t fighting to stay at André’s side preferable over sitting here on a bus, dreading news of the guy he liked spending the evening with someone else? Rather than passively letting his chance with an amazing man slip by, shouldn’t he fight to keep it?
Ian still said a hearty “no thank you” at meeting the parents at a formal event, but he could do this in stages. He could at least meet André halfway. André had proven he’d cover the distanceif Ian showed any sign of interest. All Ian had to do was say something.
All right. He had a decision. Now he just needed a plan. How to confess? After everything André had done for him, Ian felt like he owed him something grand. Maybe a nice dinner somewhere. A proper date, at the very least.
Maybe he could—
The bus gave a single hard lurch, then skittered sideways on the slick road. The other passengers gasped or screamed in surprise as the bus went out of control, people latching on to the seats or bars for balance, Ian included. With the recent downpour, the roads weren’t in the best shape. The bus left the pavement, heading for the gravel shoulder and a small copse of trees, the screeching metal as tree limbs bent and shattered torture to his ears, before all movement ground to a halt. Then the bus made a grinding noise and went utterly still like a beast slain.
