Night school mm paranorm.., p.1
Night School: MM Paranormal Vampire Romance, page 1
Copyright © 2022 Jack Offe
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Cover design by: Jack Offe
Contents
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
About The Author
Chapter 1
I swore under my breath and jerked my hand away from the flowers on my workbench. Scarlet beaded on my now-throbbing index finger. I didn’t always flinch when I cut myself — the hazard came with the job — but this thorn cut deep. Pressing my wound to my lips, I glanced at the clock, then outside. Darkness had settled early on the strip today, and the gloom matched my mood. Anyone would be miserable in my shoes, forced to make an engagement bouquet for Gary freaking Sallow.
Another thorn jabbed my thumb. I should have worn gloves. Maybe I had a subconscious masochistic streak. Arranging these flowers hurt already, why not bleed too?
I wrapped lime-green sticking plasters around my punctured fingers and went back to stripping the rose stems. I was too fastidious to leave any thorns behind but petty enough to choose flowers on the brink of wilting. The arrangement would be as short-lived as it was beautiful, doomed for quick decay. I didn’t need repeat business from Gary Sallow, anyway. Making his engagement bouquet sucked. The only thing worse would be providing flowers for the wedding.
Once I carefully positioned the roses, all it needed was a little foliage here, some baby’s breath there. Done.
Almost.
I stared at a stack of creamy card stock and traced my fingers over the gold inlay. I willed myself to pick up my fountain pen and scribble the message Gary ordered.
Just do it.
My hand shook. I’d just made contact with the paper when the bell over my door chimed, and a gaggle of women strolled into the store, all pretty and blonde and wearing smug smiles. I fumbled my pen.
You have the power now, Aiden, I told myself. This wasn’t like when I was young, vulnerable, and proving my heterosexuality by flirting with the mean girls — a plan that never worked. I wiped some dirt off the counter and fiddled with an arrangement, trying to look busy.
“Go on,” one of the girls said, louder than the rest.
I glanced up and accidentally made eye contact with the lone brunette. One of her friends nudged her toward me.
Oh no.
“Can I help you?” I said.
“Uh, yeah.” Another giggle.
“Are you looking for something in particular?”
“Uhh-” The girl stammered.
One of her friends came up behind her with a glossy smirk. “She’s looking for your number.”
“Oh my gosh, Libby-”
I froze. “Uhhhhhh-”
“But yeah,” girl number one said, “I would, I guess, like to know if you wanted to... Maybe... Maybe go out sometime?”
“I- I’m-” My mind flashed thought after uncomfortable thought. Half of me wanted to agree, just so I wouldn’t embarrass her in front of her friends. The other half was paralyzed with fear.
“I’m sorry,” I stammered.
Her face fell.
“It’s not you,” I continued quickly. “It’s me. I’m gay.”
Libby laughed. “Of course. You’re too cute to be straight.”
“Um. Thanks.”
Lifting boxes around the shop had given me a sturdy build, but I was a stringbean compared to the guys I saw coming out of the gym four shops down. My tan was feeble, and my stubble only gave me the illusion of a strong jaw. Cute? Try average at best.
“I’m sorry,” said girl number one, as red-faced as me. “I shouldn’t have asked, I-”
“You can’t know unless you try, right?” I said.
Rejection stung. I knew from experience.
“Right, but I-”
“Seriously, you’re fine. It’s fine.”
The door chimed again. I glanced up, recognized Gary Sallow, and swallowed a grimace. At this rate, I’d be a nervous wreck by the time I made it to my night photography course at Rustwood Community College.
The girl ducked her head. “We should go, guys,” she mumbled.
“Have a nice day,” I said automatically.
The girls had barely turned their backs to me when Libby announced to the rest of the group, “He’s gay.”
A more confident man might have said, ‘You know I can hear you.’
“That means you owe me five bucks, Libby,” one of the other girls said. “Pay up.”
I sighed. This wasn’t the first time I’d overheard someone taking bets on my sexuality, and I was positive it wouldn’t be the last.
I turned my attention to the figure ambling toward the counter.
Damn it, Gary was cute as hell. Until now, I held out hope that his social media photos were misleadingly flattering, but if anything, they failed to do him justice. His sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular forearms, his hair was artfully crumpled, and his smile was startlingly bright against his golden skin. No wonder Luke chose him instead of me.
“You must be Aiden,” he said when he reached the counter.
“Yep.”
“I ordered some roses for my boyfriend? Well, I say boyfriend… Hopefully, he’s going to be my fiance soon!”
Gary’s energy was contagious. So was the flu.
“What name is the order under?” I asked like I didn’t know.
“Gary Sallow.”
“I’ll go get your bouquet.”
Now that I’d met Gary in person, I felt guilty for the wilting roses. He didn’t know who I was. But it was too late to hit undo. I played the cheerful store clerk, pretending it didn’t hurt.
“Sorry, I didn’t have time to fill out the card,” I said.
“It’s probably better if I do it, anyway,” Gary said. “More heartfelt, right?”
“Right.”
“I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m actually proposing to him.”
“Congratulations.” I forced a smile, hoping I didn’t sound dead inside.
“I never thought I’d settle down. But after two and a half years… I think the time’s right.”
I kept my face neutral. I knew Luke had been cheating, but the timeline confirmed it had gone on for longer than I thought. Almost our entire relationship.
Gary continued talking, clearly eager to share his excitement, even with a stranger. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone else. And the sex...” He mimed an explosion, puffed his cheeks out, and made a booming sound. “You know?”
I nodded, even though I didn’t know. The more time passed, the more I thought I would stay a virgin forever.
Just another reason Luke and I split.
It wasn’t that I was disinterested in sex. I watched porn like it was going out of fashion. Even now, I was undressing Gary with my eyes. But my nerves kept me celibate — and soft. I used to think it would be easy when the time was right, but now I doubted the clock would ever strike bone o’clock.
My roommate and best friend, Felicia, referred to me as a hopeless romantic. She always emphasized the hopeless, but what was wrong with holding out for true love?
“So, what about you? Have you got a boyfriend?” asked Gary as I rang up the sale on the cash register. “I heard those girls mention you were gay…”
“I’m still hanging out for the right guy.”
“Hopefully, you’ll be as lucky as me.”
I pushed the flowers across the counter toward him. “Hopefully, your guy says yes.”
“I think he will,” Gary said. His eyes sparkled.
This element of my job was bittersweet. I provided flowers for funerals, birthdays, and baby showers, but for the most part, my business depended on romance. Proposals, dates, anniversaries, and weddings were how I made my money. My bouquets were immortalized in portraits of beaming strangers.
“Good luck,” I told Gary. “I hope you two will be very happy together.”
Gary beamed. “We already are.”
I was glad I wouldn’t be there when Gary told Luke where he got these flowers. I cringed, thinking about how the conversation would go. Would it be awkward? Or would they laugh and kiss and toast to a happy future, without
After Gary left the store, I slumped elbow-first onto the counter and buried my head in my hands. Only for a few seconds. No time to wallow. Beauquet was busiest between five and six. That was when people finished work, realized they’d forgotten their anniversaries, and bolted to the nearest florist. I kept a cheery, ‘can-I-help-you-sir?’ smile on my face until we closed, but gratefully let it falter when the clock hit 6:15. Time to start closing up. I’d have an hour to get ready after I locked the doors, then I was off to night school.
Keeping busy made me feel better about my lack of a relationship. It wasn’t like I had time for one, anyway.
I flipped the baroque sign on my front door to flash a ‘sorry, we’re closed’ to the street, and someone immediately knocked on the window.
I opened the door a crack. “What do you need? I’m just about to close, but-”
I didn’t get time to finish my offer. The man on the other side pushed through, knocking me into a display of peonies. My shoulder slammed into a metal shelf. Pain flashed through me, and fear rooted me to the floor. This wasn’t how business transactions were supposed to go — this man was no paying customer.
Being held-up was a risk in any customer service job, but I never thought it would happen to me. Who would want to rob a flower store? I kept little cash on the premises, and I suspected there weren’t many people interested in black market bouquets.
The man’s face was impossible to see, because a balaclava obscured most of his features. All I could tell was that his skin was white, his lips were thin, and his eyes were gray. He twirled a blade between gloved fingers.
“What do you want?” I yelped, stumbling backward toward the cash register.
He gained on me.
“Do you want money?” I said.
“How much money have you got?” he growled.
“Hold on-” I managed to get behind the counter to open the register.
Counting my day’s earnings was a task made needlessly stressful by my shaking. My body felt as though I’d plunged into arctic water. This man was dangerous. My life flashed before my eyes. And damn, my life was boring.
“I have three hundred and fifty-eight dollars in cash, but I can go to an ATM and get more. Most customers pay with their credit cards these days-”
“Hand over the cash,” he snarled.
I did as he told me. My heart pounded so violently I thought it would throb out of my chest. My gaze darted between the robber’s soulless eyes and his knife. He had my money now, and he still wasn’t backing down. He was getting closer.
“Don’t hurt me.” My voice sounded pathetic, even to myself.
“Don’t hurt me,” he mimicked mockingly.
“What are you going to do?” I asked.
“Let’s see…” His mouth twisted into a smile. “I have a few options. Wanna pick?”
“Is… Is letting me go an option?”
“I’m afraid not, pretty boy.”
“Please,” I whimpered. “I don’t want to die.”
The bell over the door chimed again.
Chapter 2
The robber and I looked at the doorway at the same time. The man standing there took my breath away. His hair was golden, and his eyes were a strikingly pale shade of green. They rested on me for half a second, long enough for his gaze to strip me naked. He sauntered inside my store and closed the door behind him.
Despite the tense situation he’d walked into, everything about the way this man held himself was perversely casual. My eyes followed the sharp lines of his plaid suit, scanning his slender body up and down. He was taller than me — six foot, at a guess — and he radiated as much menace as he did sex appeal.
“What’s going on here?” the stranger asked. His voice was dark and threatening, but it spun through the air like poetry. There was a trace of a European accent in his words, unplaceable.
“Who are you?” growled the robber.
The man adjusted his tie nonchalantly. “Who are you?”
“You better leave, buddy.”
“Or what?” An asymmetrical smirk crossed the face of my gorgeous and mysterious savior. He chuckled. “Are you planning to stab me?”
The robber’s bravado had all but vanished. Either he was afraid of this man, or he wasn’t up to committing a double homicide tonight.
“Think about this for a second.” The beautiful man’s smile widened. His teeth were white, and his canines ended in sharp points. “There are two of us and one of you. You’re outmatched.”
The robber shrugged his hoodie over his head and hunched his shoulders. He headed toward the door. Relief flooded me, but I wasn’t safe yet. The other man stopped the robber by placing a ghost-white hand on his chest.
“Don’t you have anything to return to this gentleman?” he said.
“It’s okay-” I wrung my hands. “He can keep my money-”
“No, he can’t.” My rescuer’s eyes were piercing. If I’d been on the other end of that sharp stare, I might have burned to dust. “Return the money.”
The robber snarled and threw my money back at me. It fluttered through the room like a shower of stale green confetti. Then he ducked past my rescuer and ran out into the street.
My heart kept pounding. I was frozen in fear.
I’d been beaten up a couple of times when I was younger. Those attacks left me bruised and bloodied, one time with a broken arm. This attack unnerved me in a different way — not worse, but not better either. Even though the robber hadn’t hit me, my chest clenched, and my legs were jelly. Dizziness pinpricked my vision, and I doubled over, clenching the counter so I didn’t faint.
My rescuer was beside me in seconds. I took a long, shaky breath and lifted my head. Up close, his skin was poreless, and a sprinkle of stubble covered his chin.
“You’re okay,” he said. “You’re safe now.”
He brushed the back of my hand, and my heart stopped. The look in his pale eyes turned my tongue parchment dry — like he was seeing right through me, into my soul. Every fine hair on my body trembled to attention. Maybe the robber had made me paranoid, but I suddenly felt sure… This man was dangerous, too.
“What if he comes back?” My voice sounded weak, higher-pitched than I intended.
“He won’t come back.” The man spoke so confidently that I believed him, even though I had no reason to.
“Who are you?”
“I’m a concerned citizen,” the man said. He glanced at the ostentatious gold watch on his wrist. I instantly missed his touch. “And now I need to leave. You should go home and rest.”
“But what’s your name?”
“Take care.”
He left as smoothly as he had arrived. The door chimed to alert me of his exit.
For a few moments, I stood in place behind the counter, still reeling. Once I regained the use of my legs, I ran to chase down my rescuer, thank him properly.
I hadn’t bothered to put on a coat, and the late September wind cut sharply through my flannel shirt. I squinted down the street, searching for a glimpse of my dangerous and mysterious hero, but he had vanished without a trace. The sidewalk was full of people in heavy brown and black coats, but I spotted no plaid. Where was my mysterious savior? Who was he? And would I ever see him again?
Chapter 3
“You’re seriously going to school after that?” Felicia’s pale eyebrows were so high up her forehead I thought they might jump off. “Are you crazy, Aiden?”
“Maybe.” I shrugged. “But I can’t let a mugger get in the way of my life. Otherwise, he wins.”
“Oh, honey, no.” Felicia puckered her lips. “He wins if he steals your money or kills you. You’re allowed to rest and recover from nearly getting murdered-”
“I know I’m allowed to rest.” I was already running late. “I don’t want to rest. It’s my first day of the night photography course, and besides, I didn’t nearly get murdered, I-”
“He had a knife, Aiden!” Felicia threw up her hands, exasperated.
My roommate was frequently annoyed with me. If she went a day without rolling her big brown eyes, I’d be concerned.
“He didn’t use the knife on me,” I pointed out.
I was saying it for my benefit as well as hers. Pondering my mortality was a bad habit I wouldn’t indulge.
