Jennifer Armentrout - Onyx

I tried some more of the noodles. I was having fun, but as I pushed the food around the plate, I felt a weird tug in my stomach. I was having a great time with him, but...

“So I heard something at school today,” Blake said after the waitress left.

Slumping against the seat, I bit back a string of curses. God only knew what he’d heard. Rumors about me were flying like UFOs. “I’m afraid to even ask.”

He looked sympathetic. “I heard that Daemon beat up some guy because of you.”

We’d made it this entire time without bringing up Daemon. I slumped a little in my booth. “Yeah, he kind of did.”

Both his brows rose in surprise as he leaned forward. “You going to tell me why?”

“You haven’t heard the rumors?”

He ran a hand through his messy spikes. “I hear a lot of things, but I don’t believe them.”

It was the last thing I wanted to do, but I figured he’d hear the not-so-true parts sooner or later. Hell, he might’ve already. So I told him about my homecoming date from hell.

Anger flashed in his hazel eyes, and when I’d finished, he sat back. “I’m glad Daemon did pummel the dick, but that’s kind of an extreme reaction for someone who’s just a ’friend.’”

“Daemon can be…”

“An asshole,” Blake suggested.

“Yeah, that, but he’s kind of protective of…um, Dee’s friends.” I squeezed my fork, feeling all kinds of awkward. “And so he got a little mad over what Simon was saying. He’s really not that bad. Just takes a little bit to get used to.”

“Well, I can’t blame him for that, but he really is… protective of you. I thought he was going to break my hand for touching you at the party.”

Sliding the plate back to him, I rested my chin on my hand. I needed to tell him the truth. Soon. But I didn’t want to spoil dinner. I was being a total chicken, but I rationalized it was okay if I at least told him by the end of the evening. Heck, I wasn’t even sure what I was going to say. No, I’m not dating Daemon, but I can’t stop thinking about how we combust every time we’re near, so it’s probably best if you don’t get too close? I sighed. “Enough about Daemon. It must be hard loving surfing so much and being so far from a beach.”

“It is,” he agreed. A distant look crept into his eyes. “Surfing is probably the only thing that clears my mind. When I’m out there on the waves, I don’t think about anything. My brain is officially empty. It’s just the waves and me. It’s peaceful.”

“I can understand that.” Silence stretched out for a long moment. “It’s the same thing when I’m gardening or reading. It’s just me and what I’m doing, or the world I’m reading, and nothing else.”

“Sounds like you do it to escape.”

I didn’t respond because I hadn’t really thought of it that way, but now that he said it, I did use those things to escape. Discomfited, I idly separated the noodles on my plate into groups. “What about you? Are you trying to escape?”

Several seconds passed before he answered. “That’s the funny thing about trying to escape. You never really can. Maybe temporarily, but not completely.”

I nodded absently, struck by the depth of what he said. It was the truth. After I finished a book or potted a plant, Dad was still dead, my best friend was still an alien, and I was still attracted to Daemon.

Blake started talking about plans for Thanksgiving break next week. He’d be out of town for most of it, visiting family. I glanced up, my gaze sweeping the small restaurant. Warmth jolted down my spine.

Oh, holy hell to the no . I couldn’t believe it. This was not happening.

Behind the tall partition walls, a dark head moved through the tiny rows. I fell back against the seat, wholly aware of him and horrified. This was my date— my date . What was he doing here?

Daemon navigated around the clusters of tables with a grace I envied. Women stopped eating or ceased mid-conversation as he passed. Men scooted back to give him more room. He had a profound effect on everyone who saw him.

Frowning, Blake twisted around, and his shoulders stiffened as he faced me. “Overprotective type…?”

“I don’t…even know what to say,” I mumbled helplessly.

“Hey guys.” Daemon slid into the seat next to me, which left very little room. The whole left side of my body was pressed against his, tingling and warm. “Am I interrupting?”

“Yes,” I said, mouth agape.

“Oh, sorry.” Daemon didn’t look sincere. Or make any attempt to leave.

A half smile formed on Blake’s lips as he sat back and folded his arms. “How are you doing, Daemon?”

“I’m doing great.” He stretched, draping his arm along the back of our booth. “How about you, Brad?”

Blake laughed softly. “My name’s Blake.”

Daemon’s fingers tapped off the back of the booth, brushing my hair. “So what were you guys up to?”

“We were having dinner,” I said and started to scoot forward, but Daemon’s fingers hooked around the back of my turtleneck, fingers gently sliding against my skin. I shot him a death glare and ignored the goose bumps peaking my skin.

“And I think we were just about done,” Blake said, his eyes centered on Daemon. “Weren’t we, Katy?”

“Yeah, we just need our check.” Very discreetly, I lowered my hand under the table, found Daemon’s thigh, and pinched. Hard.

He tugged me back, causing my knee to hit the table. “What were you planning to do after dinner? Was Biff taking you to a movie?”

Blake’s easy grin started to falter. “Blake. And that would be the plan.”

“Hmm.” Daemon’s gaze flicked up, and a second later, Blake’s glass tipped over.

I gasped. Water sloshed over the table, spilling into Blake’s lap. He jumped up, letting out a curse. The movement shook the table again. His plate of spicy noodles slid—well, flew—onto the front of Blake’s sweater.

My jaw dropped. Holy mountain mama, Daemon had taken my date hostage.

“Jesus,” Blake muttered, hands at his sides.

Grabbing napkins, I turned to Daemon. My look promised a vengeful death as I handed Blake the napkins.

“That was really strange,” Daemon said, smirking.

Red-faced, Blake glanced up from patting his crotch dry. For a moment, his eyes fixed on Daemon and I swore he was going to come across the table. And then his eyes shuttered. Quietly and with stiff, jerky movements, he brushed off the brown noodles. The waitress rushed to Blake’s side with several more napkins.

“Well, anyway, I’m actually here for a reason.” Daemon picked up my glass and took a drink. “You’re needed at home.”

Blake halted his movements. “Excuse me?”

“Did I speak too fast, Bart?”

“His name is Blake ,” I snapped. “And why am I needed at home? Right now, at this very moment?”

Daemon met my eyes, his stare heavy and intense with meaning. “Something has come up and you need to check it out now.”

Something obviously meant alien business. Unease crawled down my spine. Now his sudden appearance made sense. For a few minutes, I was really beginning to believe it had been pure, primal jealousy that drove him to go all stalker on us.

And as much as it ticked me off to do this, I knew I had to leave.

Turning to Blake, I winced. “I’m really , really sorry about this.”

Blake’s gaze darted between us as he picked up the check. “It’s okay. Things happen.”

I felt like a tool, which seemed fitting, since I was sitting next to the biggest wiener ever. “I’ll make it up. I promise.”

He smiled. “It’s all right, Katy. I’ll take you home.”