Raze (Riven 3)

“I, um…”

I shook my head and slid off the stool. I didn’t know how to do this without Sofia. I was just making a fool of myself.

As my feet hit the ground, though, a hand closed over my biceps. Not pulling or squeezing, just keeping me in place.

“What’s going on?” Huey asked. Up close, he was an immovable wall of muscle, not even made of the same material as me. But his hand was a gentle pressure on my arm and when he took it away, I immediately wanted it back.

His eyes were wary, concerned, with a line between his dark brows, and he was frowning at me.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out and I blinked stupidly up at him, my breath coming short. He furrowed his brow even more, then put a hand on my upper back and steered me to the quiet back corner of the bar.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I forced out. Then, “Everything?”

I tried to laugh at myself, but it came out as a creaking groan. I clenched my fists and stared at the floor and forced the words out of my mouth.

“I wanted to see you again. I came here to see if you wanted to go get dinner with me sometime, or a drink, or, uh, just hang out or something. I didn’t know if you were into guys at all so I wanted to say it could be as friends, cuz who couldn’t use one more friend, right? But then I didn’t know how to ask, and I had this ocean of realizing that we don’t really know each other and why would you even wanna be friends with me and I…I…um…panicked a little.”

I let out a nervous laugh and looked up, cringing in anticipation of what I might see on Huey’s face.

But he just looked…confused?

“You want to hang out with me.” He didn’t say it like a question, but like he was double-checking an order.

“I…yeah. Is that weird?”

And wow, Rainey, way to make it weird.

“Not what I was expecting,” Huey said.

“What were you expecting?”

He shook his head and shrugged his massive shoulders.

“So, um. Is that…Do you…want to?”

He looked at me for so long that I became certain he wanted me to leave and never come back. But then the line between his brows smoothed slightly and his eyes softened. He nodded once, jerkily, and blood rushed to my head in relief.

“Okay, cool, cool.” We stood staring at each other, and I squeezed my hands into fists to force myself to just ask.

“You don’t have to tell me your business or anything, but, um…would you want it to be, like, a date? Or…not a date. Really, either’s fine, I just…”

He cleared his throat, an awkward growling sound, and when he spoke again his voice was gruff.

“A date.”

Holy shit, a date. My heart fluttered in my chest. I hadn’t been lying that I’d be happy being friends too, but the idea that Huey might be attracted to me, that I might get to kiss him or feel the expanse of his muscled chest…it lit me up inside.

“Yeah? Okay, great. I work until four most days, so…maybe dinner?”

“I could cook,” Huey said.

If most guys had offered to cook on a first date, I might’ve assumed it was to ensure sex after dinner, but I didn’t get that vibe from him at all. Given the way he held himself still and spoke so deliberately and briefly, it seemed more like he was trying to control the environment of the date by inviting me into his space.

“Okay.”

“Thursday?”

“Okay.”

Another nod, and I thought he was about to turn and leave.

“Um, should we exchange numbers?” I asked before he could.

We exchanged numbers and Huey explained that he lived above the bar, and the entire time he watched me with a level gaze. I realized after a while that most people who were quite tall tipped their heads down to look at you, but Huey kept his chin up the whole time, only his eyes moving.

I liked it. I liked looking up at him. I liked the angle of his jaw and the minimalism of his movements.

“Should get back,” he said once our plans were confirmed.

“Okay. I’ll see you Thursday. Thanks for…wanting to go out with me.” I smiled at him.

He didn’t smile, but his eyes flashed and he touched my shoulder for just a moment. Then he turned and walked back to the bar, powerful thighs bunching, ass clenching, back rippling, like every muscle in his body was fully engaged in everything he did.

And damn, but I couldn’t help imagining what it might feel like if what he did was me.

Chapter 3

Huey

At a little before seven on Thursday, I was slicing cucumber for the salad and listening to a true crime podcast about a vampire killer in New Orleans. I’d just finished one about the history of skateboarding.