Page 20 of Ruby Mercy

I guess that makes me prey.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see two large shapes moving past. They’re a row of tables away from us, but close enough that a zing still moves up my spine. They sit, just barely out of earshot but not quite out of sight.

Strategic on Kirill’s part, no doubt.

“They’re not coming over,” Natalia says. “I wonder why not.”

I snort. “Probably because we stared at them and looked like we were going to pass out. Also, probably because he doesn’t want to see me again.”

“That’s what he said. But maybe that's not what he meant.”

“Is there another way to interpret that?” I ask. “It seemed pretty cut-and-dry to me.”

“I can tell you one thing: there’s only one way to interpret the way he just looked at you.”

I shake my head immediately. “No. Stop.”

“Stop what?” she protests innocently.

“You’re already trying to play matchmaker,” I hiss. “Just a second ago, you were acting like the Ghost of Christmas Past walked through the door, but now, you’re trying to set us up.”

She crosses her arms and leans back in her seat. “I’m not doing anything.”

“Listen to me, Nat,” I say, leaning forward with my arms crossed. “Nothing can happen between me and Kirill. It can’t. There is too much history there, too many secrets. Just… no.”

Her mouth twitches like a rabbit’s. “Whatever you say, Rayne. I want what you want, okay?”

“Okay.”

Natalia leans forward, a wicked smile on her lips. “So… what do you want?”

Kirill shifts in his chair, and I can’t help but glance over. He’s facing me—no way that’s an accident—but he’s talking to the waitress who just came over to take their orders. The girl is young and beautiful. It’s obvious just from body language that she is giving extra attention to Kirill.

Jealousy burns bright in my chest. It’s the torch I used to carry for Kirill, still sputtering and sparking even after all these years.

I look away, my jaw clenched. “I want to move on.”

Natalia squeezes my hand and grins. “Moving on is what I do best. Come with me: I’ve got an idea.”

* * *

The man next to me is handsome. More importantly, he’s the exact opposite of Kirill.

He’s only a couple inches taller than me, his hair is so blond it’s almost white, and he has dark brown eyes that look black in this shadowy corner of the bar.

“What did you say your name was?” he asks.

In his defense, I mumbled my name in my awkward attempt to introduce myself as I approached his table. He was handsome, sitting alone, and not wearing a ring. In Natalia’s estimation, that made him my perfect choice. She shoved me towards him and, from that moment on, I was on my own.

I wrap my hands around my drink. “Rayne.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Like…rain, rain go away, come again another day?”

“Is that a hint?” I ask, starting to rise out of my chair. “If you want me to go, I can—”

He wraps a warm hand around my arm and gently tugs me back into my seat. “Rayne, Rayne, don’t go away. I’m glad I came to this bar today,” he says in a sing-song voice.

My cheeks are flushed, and I’m not sure if it’s from the alcohol or the flirting. It’s nice, honestly. Cute. A little cheesy, but cute.

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