Page 4 of Beast

I turned and saluted her. “Scout’s honor.”

“Not funny. You were never in the Scouts!”

Every time I felt sexually attracted to or desired someone, I lost my body and mind. I hated not being in control, but it’d happened a few times. I would decide to go all the way, then I would get frustrated and a heat would build-up inside of me so strong it would scare me, making me want to run away. When I tried to force it, make myself continue, I would get so sick I’d have to stop. I worried I wouldn’t lose my V-card, and something horrible would happen to not only him but me too.

So sex was off-limits for me.

I’d asked my BFF in high school if she had ever felt that way, and she told me I was funny. The problem was she was the only one laughing. It didn’t make me want to laugh, scaring the living crap out of me instead.

Once I finished getting ready, I checked my makeup, pinned up my dark locks elegantly, and spun around to face her.

“How do I look?”

“Like a million bucks. But I would feel a lot better if you were wearing sweatpants, instead of heels and the red number you bought last week. I thought was for the party tomorrow.”

“I can wear the same dress twice. I’m not rich.”

“Whatever!”

Then, as interested as she was about my night, she turned around like she wasn’t, but I knew that wasn’t the case. It was her way of hiding her disappointment. I took my keys, phone, and mace, which I promised I would take with me, and then I was on my way.

I didn’t know if this was a good idea, but I kissed her on the forehead and she hugged me like this was the last time she would ever see me. I squeezed her back and gave her a reassuring smile, which wasn’t returned.

I would be back tonight, and tomorrow we would go to a frat party—the same thing we did each and every weekend.

So that she wouldn’t see all the color had probably drained from my face, I turned away from her. There were too many frat parties. The guys were half-drunk, stoned, or both. If you claimed to have slept with any of them, they treated it like a trophy and just went along with it.

They loved the attention, and their ego being stroked, especially when you told them how good they were the previous night.

Once the door closed behind me, I could breathe again. I hoped I’d done the right thing by lying to my best friend and everyone else too.

Half an hour later, nerves jangled inside me as I stood outside the café. I was overdressed for the occasion and wished I had just put on something else like leggings or jeans.

We’d decided he’d wear a black rose on his shirt and I’d wear a red dress, which was the real reason I bought it last week. I didn’t have a red dress, so I told Gail I’d bought it for the party tomorrow.

I smoothed a hand over the material and took a shaky breath. This could go one of two ways: fantastic, or I’d have to deal with a stalker. Either way, I wasn’t dumb. This was a public place and I hadn’t told him my last name or anything he could use to track me down later. Online I was JDT and he was Theodore30. Two strangers meeting in person for the first time.

I pushed aside my anxiety and opened the glass door. The scent of coffee and pastries tickled the back of my tongue. Quickly, I checked the place out and spotted a guy in the back with a black T-shirt. I squinted in his direction. Did he have a rose? I couldn’t tell from here, so I pushed farther into the cafe.

Then a man with dark hair, dressed in a crisp, buttoned-up shirt stood with a bow of his head, and I swear my heart skipped a beat. He wore black jeans and boots.

When his gorgeous dark eyes met mine, a blush heated my whole face. It couldn’t be.

“Theodore30?” I gaped. No, he couldn’t be my blind date. Not him from high school. I left Russia to come to America to pretend my past didn’t exist, but it was right in front of me.

He moved toward me, just slightly, and I could feel the heat and the danger wafting off him in waves. I should’ve ignored him, kept going to the back and the restrooms, and waited until he left. But I couldn’t make my feet move.

A black rose was pinned to the pocket on his shirt.

“JDT?” he asked, raising a dark eyebrow with a look that said he knew exactly who I was.

I cleared my throat and shook my head to clear it as I realized it wasn’t so much of a blind date when you know the person to whom you’ve been talking to.

“What the hell are you doing here, Tomas? How did you leave Russia?” I whispered in an angry, strained voice.

He chuckled, “The same way you did, on a plane!”

He gestured toward the booth and I backed up a step. “Don’t make a scene.”

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