Page 39 of Road Trip with a Vampire
“Walk in. Ask some questions. Leave.” He said this like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“You’re no fun.”
“I suspect you’re not the first person to tell me this.”
I turned to Veronica, who’d been watching our conversation like a tennis match. “Table for two, please,” I said.
Veronica consulted a tablet at the host stand. “Do you have a reservation?”
“Why would we sign up in advance to eat at a place like this?” Peter asked.
I glared at him. But Veronica laughed as though she got that kind of thing all the time.
“Looks like we just had a cancellation,” she said, plucking two chicken-shaped menus from the host stand. “Follow me.”
I turned to Peter again, who looked like he was about to face a firing squad.
“It’ll be fun,” I said, grinning at him. On impulse, I poked him in the stomach. His abdominal muscles clenched at my touch. Damn, they were solid. “Live a little.”
He rubbed at the spot where I’d touched him, a strange look on his face. “I can’tliveat all,” he grumbled.
But despite his protests, when I started walking in the direction Veronica was taking us, Peter followed close behind.
Even I had to admitthe animatronic chickens kind of sucked at singing.
By the time our server brought our order—a basket of chicken tenders and fries for me, a Diet Coke for Peter—we’d sat through a horrendous cover ofBad Moon Risingin which all the words had been replaced by aggressively enthusiastic clucking.
Every time another chicken burst into song, Peter glared at the thing as though it had personally murdered his entire family.
It was cute, really, how annoyed he was by this silly place.
Hewas cute.
As much as I wished I could deny it.
“So,” I said, eyes on my plate as I pushed the last of my fries through a puddle of ketchup. I tried to ignore how much Peter’s pouty lower lip jutted out when he was especially irritated. Howbitableit looked. It was difficult, though. The urge to wind him up, to tease him, was nearly irresistible. “Now that we’ve been here a little while, any memories triggered?”
“I remember these fucking chickens.”
I snorted. “They’d be hard to forget.”
The corners of his lips twitched into an almost-smile. The first sign of amusement he’d shown since we’d gotten here. “True.”
“Anything besides the chickens?” I prompted. “Like, why you were here the last time?”
He fiddled with his straw as he considered. “I remember being…angry when I was here. No, not angry.” He shook his head, grappling for the right words. “Aggressive.I don’t remember anything else.”
“Aggressive?” That could explain why the host had freaked out when he’d seen him.
Peter blew out a long breath, then scrubbed a hand over his face. “There was someone here I wanted to intimidate. I don’t remember who, but…”
He trailed off and took a long pull from his Diet Coke. Earlier, he’d explained that he needed something to take the edge off if he had any hope of enduring this place. He was already on his second, and although I hadn’t noticed him actingdrunk, I wondered if I should cut him off.
What did a drunk vampire even look like? I had no idea, buthehadbeen staring at my lips and smiling a lot at things I’d said over dinner when he thought I wasn’t watching. Maybe he’d been off his ass this entire time and I hadn’t realized.
“I think I may not have been a good person before,” he said after he’d drained his glass. His words came out slightly slurred. His eyes—glassy now—fell to my lips again and stayed there a beat too long. “Gosh, you’re pretty.”
My cheeks flamed at his words. My mind shorted out.
