Fuck.

  “Fancy meeting you here,” he says, standing beside me. He leans comfortably against the counter and I look down at my drink. There’s not really anything wrong with Lester except that he gives me the creeps. Is that a valid reason for not dating someone? Is it acceptable to say something like, I’m sorry, but you make me uncomfortable?

  “Nice opener,” I say instead, choosing to be at least a little bit polite.

  The bartender laughs and turns away. Obviously, she can tell how much I hate this interaction. She also knows how totally desperate I am tonight, so the fact that I’m trying to turn down Lester should tell the world something about the kind of person he is.

  Lester, however, either doesn’t notice my lack of interest or, once again, he just doesn’t care. It’s his carelessness and lack of awareness that bothers me more than anything else. Well, that and the fact that he’s a generally rude person. I’ve met him a few times before and I’ve never really understood why so many people seem to like him. He’s bold, and he’s a bit driven, but he’s also overbearing and impolite.

  “So, what are you looking for tonight?” He asks me.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re here for the Meet and Mingle, right?”

  The person or people who arranged the blind date mixer didn’t go all out when it came to the name. If I had arranged this little get-together, I would have chosen something a little punchier, like Meet and Mate. I mean, it sounds totally sexual, but isn’t that the fun?

  Then again, maybe you can’t advertise for mixers designed to help people find hookups.

  I’m not really sure.

  “I suppose I am,” I say, looking around the room. The party, or whatever it is, seems to be in full swing now. Lots of people are paired off with others. Some shifters are even mingling in groups of three or four. Shifters sharing mates isn’t unheard of, but it’s still not as common as shifters who mate with just a single partner. There’s still a bit of a stigma about it, especially in Tigress. “What about you?” I ask.

  “Better, now that you’re here,” he says, looking down at me from his standing position.

  “Ha,” I sip my drink. I’m not sure what happened, but somehow, my glass is totally empty now. Fuck. So much for keeping tonight light and breezy. I catch the bartender’s eye, but she’s one step ahead of me and slides a drink into place. I take it, sipping it, and feel my body start to warm from my buzz.

  Is there something wrong with me?

  Because I was under the impression that dating was supposed to be easier than this. I thought that it was supposed to be relaxing and fun. At the very least, I thought dating was supposed to be something I could sink into.

  I didn’t think it would feel almost repulsive, but that’s what I’m experiencing.

  Lester is Melanie’s relative. Melanie is marrying my relative. It’s weird she wants me to hook up with him and honestly, it’s weird that he’s still trying. We’ve dealt with shared business interests before, but those days are long gone and to be honest, I’m tired of even trying to be around Lester.

  I don’t want to date him.

  I don’t want anyone.

  Well, except maybe the tall, dark, and handsome shifter over at the table by the door. Lester starts talking to me, and I kind of nod along, but I’m not really listening to him as I look at the guy across the bar. He looks familiar, but I can’t quite place him. He’s obviously caught up in whatever the tiny redhead across from him is saying. She’s a fox, if I had to guess, but that’s all right. We all deserve to be happy, right? Apparently, I was a little too late for that guy, but I eye the way he’s interacting with the girl.

  They’re both leaning forward, eagerly chatting with one another. It’s like they can’t get enough of each other, and I realize that’s what I’m missing tonight. Lester and I can totally, absolutely get enough of each other, and perhaps that’s our problem. Neither one of us wants more from the other one. He’s...well, he’s Lester.

  And I’m totally not into him.

  “So, it’s settled then,” Lester’s words draw me back into the conversation.

  “What?”

  “Dinner tomorrow night,” he says with a toothy smile.

  “Who’s having dinner tomorrow night?”

  “We are.”

  “No,” I shake my head. “We are not.”

  “But you agreed.”

  “No, you agreed,” I look at him. “Lester, I’ve told you before that I’m not interested in dating you.”

  He cocks his head and considers me the same way a parent would look at a petulant child.

  “Now, Cassidy,” he says. “Have you forgotten your manners again? You’re being pretty rude.”

  “And you aren’t taking no for an answer.”

  Lester looks shocked, as though I’ve slapped him in the face. With a growl, I realize that tonight has definitely, totally bombed. The guy I was scoping out just minutes before is standing and heading outside with the redhead in the tiny black dress. Good. At least someone is getting somewhere tonight.

  It’s not me, though.

  I stand, turning back to the bartender. I catch her attention.

  “Hey, I’d like to close my tab,” I tell her. She takes one look at Lester, who is obviously pissed at being turned down yet again, and she motions for me to come closer to her.

  “You all right with this clown?” She asks.

  “Yeah, he’s harmless,” I tell her.

  “Need one of the bouncers to walk you out?” She raises an eyebrow. “We don’t need to mess around with guys like this.”

  “Nah,” I shake my head. “I’ll be okay. What do I owe you?”

  The bartender looks from me to Lester and back again and then she whispers to me.

  “On the house tonight, love.”

  “Thanks,” I say. Her unexpected generosity warms my heart. Okay, so maybe not everyone in this bar is a terrible person. I reach out to shake her hand, sliding her a twenty when I do, and she rolls her eyes.

  “Apparently, you don’t know the meaning of ‘on the house,’” she laughs.

  “Consider it a tip.”

  “Well played.”

  I grab my purse, push past Lester, ignore whatever words are pouring out of his mouth, and head outside. Once I’m out in the chilly night air, I give myself a second to breathe.

  Yeah, I think it’s a little safe to say that I’m beyond frustrated with how everything went down. I blame Alastair, honestly, because without the push and the threat of being seated with Lester at his wedding reception, I never would have gone out of my comfort zone and headed into a bar.

  Never.

  For a minute, I think Lester is going to follow me, but he doesn’t. I look over my shoulder and see him leaning on the counter. He’s already moved on to flirting with the bartender, which is just as well. I don’t need him in my life right now.

  I don’t need any of this.

  I lean against the building and look around the darkened parking lot. It’s decidedly quiet, which is strange. Usually, there are at least a couple of taxis loitering around, but there’s nothing tonight. Fuck. I’m way too buzzed to drive and I know it. I might take risks in the business world, but I don’t gamble with my life. I certainly don’t gamble because I drank too much due to stress. Lester really got under my skin. So did Greg. What I need is to get home, eat some food, and fall asleep. I don’t need to drive to get there, though. At least I’m sober enough to realize that.

  I took a cab here, so I don’t have a car sitting around or anything. Luckily, I’m always prepared for the inevitable, so I’ve got a couple of ride-sharing apps on my phone. I start fumbling for my cell. I’ll call a car and then I’ll go home. Yep. That’s it. That’s my new, perfect, flawless plan. See? Who said drunk girls couldn’t make decisions?

  “Rough night?” A deep, sultry voice draws my attention away from my apps, and I look up, surprised to see the handsome shifter from earlier. He’s taller up close, and if possible, even more handsome. He’s lean and muscular with these bright, piercing eyes that make me want to yank off my panties and throw them at him.

  What the fuck is wrong with me?

  “Where’s your redhead?” I ask, looking around, trying not to let him know just how stupidly turned on I am. Who gets aroused from a look, anyway? Okay, maybe it’s been awhile since I got laid. Apparently, it’s been way too long. If a stranger is having this kind of effect on me, then I have bigger issues than finding a date.

  The man chuckles, deep and low, and he smiles at me like I’m the silliest thing he’s ever seen. That shouldn’t make me happy, but somehow, knowing that I made him smile makes me feel ridiculously content in a strange sort of way. He’s not looking at me like I’m being annoying or stupid. He’s looking at me like I’m adorable. This is a feeling I’m not used to, and I want to harness these emotions and just hold onto them forever.

  “She had somewhere to be,” he says.

  “Another date?” I ask.

  “More like a husband,” he shrugs.

  “Ouch.”

  “Well, to each their own,” he says. “But from a drama perspective, I’m not really interested in pursuing something with someone who has other partners.”

  “What about a moral perspective?” I ask, turning back to my phone. I try not to stare at him too hard. After all, this guy is way, way out of my league. I’m not shy about my own level of attractiveness. I know I’m pretty. I’m not embarrassed about my body or my curves or my flaws. Still, I know that this guy is the type of person who could literally bed any girl in Tigress and with options like that, he probably isn’t going to be choosing me.

  I start scrolling through my phone to find an app. I’m starting to feel a little more buzzed and I want to get home, tear off my clothes, and climb into bed. Yeah, that’s definitely what I need right now. Forget the food. Forget the sex. Sleep is what I need. Sleep and good dreams and if this guy wants to come home with me...I’ll let him.

  Dammit, Cassidy, I groan inwardly. Get it together, girl.

  He shrugs. “What other people do and how they choose to live their lives isn’t really any of my concern, now is it?”

  I look up at him sharply. What a diplomatic answer. That’s his response to the morality of people sleeping with multiple partners? To each their own? I mean, tigers are known for being a bit raunchy and I’ve known couples who are in polyamorous relationships, but people are still decidedly judgmental about it. I’ve never heard anyone say live and let live out loud, and while I love the idea of letting other people do as they wish, I didn’t know anyone actually believed that. Does this guy actually believe that?

  “Who are you?” I ask.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean,” I say. “Who are you? Nobody talks like that. Nobody believes that. Most people think that they definitely have every right to impose their beliefs on other people, so how are you so different?” I hope I’m not coming off as aggressive because I certainly don’t mean to. What I really want to know is how he’s so self-confident that he believes each person should be able to live their life in a way that makes them happy. What I really want to know is why he’s okay with not judging other people. More importantly, why couldn’t I have met this dude at the beginning of the night? Maybe by now I’d have secured him as my date for Alastair’s special event. As it is, I’m totally drunk, and he’s confused with what I’m saying to him.

  Now it’s his turn to shrug, to look nervous, embarrassed.

  Shy?

  Could he be shy?

  Maybe he’s not used to being noticed. I can’t really tell. I look back down and grimace. What I can tell is that all of the ride sharing apps I have on my phone – which is four – have ridiculous wait times and I don’t want to be sitting outside of a bar for an hour.

  I sigh and look around.

  Guess I’ll be walking home tonight. There are worse things, but it means I’m going to not only be hung over tomorrow, but sore, too. Fuck. Oh well, I suppose. I start to take a step forward and then another. I’m a little dizzy, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. I mean, sure, the world is spinning, but it’s whatever, right? No big deal. I’ve got this under control.

  Then I start to slip, and my body seems to flail through the air.

  So that’s it, then.

  This is how I die: alone in a parking lot bar.

  Alone.

  Alone and without a date and in front of a handsome stranger.

  I close my eyes before my body can hit the ground, but I don’t feel the sensation of concrete against my skin. Instead, I’m suddenly yanked back against something hard.

  A body.

  Not just any body: his body.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, but unlike Lester, this guy doesn’t give me the creeps. It’s not just because he’s attractive or because I’ve had a little too much to drink. No, it’s because when he asks me where I’m going, he seems curious. He doesn’t seem predatory. Besides, I think he just saved me from hitting my head on the ground. That was nice of him. What a kind man.

  “Home,” I tell him. “That’s where I’m going now. To my home. I’m tired and I live that way,” I point in a direction. I’m not actually sure whether it’s the direction where my house is.

  “You’re too drunk to drive.”

  “I know,” I roll my eyes, but I don’t make a move to leave or pull away. I’m still pressed up against him. I’m still snug against his front and somehow, that makes me feel so damn good. It’s probably a bad idea. I shouldn’t start rubbing myself against him, but my inner-cat suddenly feels so alive, so awake.

  Suddenly, all I want is to turn around, kiss this shifter, and then climb him like a fucking tree.

  Fuck.

  I’m in trouble.

  Chapter 4

  Matthew

  Arousal.

  The scent of it fills my nostrils as I hold the little cat close. She’s much too drunk, which is strange for a shifter. Most of us are known for being able to hold our alcohol well. How much did she have to drink? I noticed her slamming back rum when I was talking to Tanya earlier.

  The redheaded fox was very aggressive and pushy, and to be honest, she really isn’t the kind of person I want to have as my date for the wedding. If a date is pushy during your first night out, she’s going to get pushier. I’m not the biggest fan of weddings, but I also don’t want to bring someone to Melanie’s special event who is going to cause a scene.

  The evening was a total wash, and although I was trying to be polite, the reality is that I kept stealing glances at the kitty while Tanya was talking about work and her hobbies and then, finally, her husband. That was when I realized that the thing between us couldn’t go anywhere, but if I read the signals correctly, Tanya wasn’t really looking for something long-term. She didn’t seem to want anything past tonight. Besides, she went back inside to the mixer. I’m pretty sure she’s going to keep prowling until she finds someone she likes. Tanya seems a bit determined. She’s not likely to give up easily.

  Now I’m holding the sweetest little cat I’ve ever met. She seemed irritated earlier. I’m not sure if she came out on a date that went poorly or if she was here for the mixer, but either way, she was stressed and anxious. The bartender kept pouring her drinks and she was inhaling them like they were sweet milk. Now I’m realizing that I was right earlier: Tanya isn’t what I need.

  What I need is someone soft and sweet.

  What I need is someone like the drunk kitty-cat rubbing against me right now.

  Does she even realize that she’s practically purring?

  Does she know what’s happening right now?

  She’s lovely and sweet. She’s strong for someone who appears to be so outwardly delicate. It’s a bad idea to go to a mixer and then not mix. I shouldn’t have spent the entire evening talking to Tanya, especially once I realized she was married. I should have made a move earlier to talk to more people, especially this woman. She was talking to someone, though, and then to someone else. I didn’t want to interrupt or impose. Perhaps I should have. Maybe I could have saved us both some stress. Now, it might be too late. The night is over, and I still don’t have a date for the wedding. I can’t ask her now. She’s so beyond drunk at this point that it would be stupid and cruel to ask.

  “I can call you a car,” I tell her quietly. “I’ll wait with you until it comes to make sure you’re safe.”

  “What a gentleman.”

  “I try my best.”

  She holds up her phone and points to it.

  “There are no more cars for now,” she tells me. “Thirty-minute wait. That usually means an hour, though.”

  I look around. It’s well after midnight and there should be taxis around, but a large crowd left about ten minutes ago. I’m guessing all of the cabs are currently occupied. To be honest, it’s a pretty small town, and even with the bars, there isn’t a ton of demand for public transportation options. Waiting for cabs kind of comes with the territory when you live in a place like Tigress. It’s unfortunate, but that’s the way it goes.

  “Then I’ll drive you,” I tell her. “Because you shouldn’t walk home alone.”

  “Aren’t you drunk, too?”

  “I’m not,” I told her. “I was drinking soda. Would you like me to take you home?”

  It’s unusual for me to offer to do something for another person, especially someone I don’t know, but the woman is in need and I’ve never been one to leave someone hanging. Not when it’s serious. Something tells me that she absolutely will march home in that tiny skirt and those too-high heels, but if she doesn’t fall and break her ankle on the way, something much worse could happen.

  Yeah, not on my watch.

  To my surprise, she doesn’t argue. Instead, she turns around and presses her hands to my chest. She looks up at me and those damn eyes just sear into my fucking soul. Perfection. That’s literally all I’m seeing right now: sheer perfection. My cock hardens, but I’m not embarrassed at my reaction to her. She’s just as turned on as I am right now, but I don’t think either one of us is going to make a move tonight. I won’t kiss someone who’s drunk. Not someone I don’t know. Not someone I’m not currently in a relationship with.