Which was kind of a relief. Whenever Ash was around, Julia felt a bit unnecessary by comparison.
“That’s a shame. She promised me a special birthday present.” Brett finished his beer in one almighty swallow. “Wanna come see my room?”
Julia tried to think of a polite way to say “over my cold, deceased body” but luckily their not so lovely host was seized by a gang of footballers and dragged away to do twenty-one shots of Sambuca.
“What about Brett?” Mickey asked. “He’s cute and he was flirting with you.”
Julia groaned. “Not my type. Besides he’s about to dotwenty-one shots. He’ll never get a hard-on again.”
She and Mickey collected a couple of ciders and began circling the party, talking with other girls they knew. Julia drained her bottle too quickly, half-listening to conversations while staring into the crowd.
Who did she want? Who, to borrow Ash’s phrase, looked like a good ride? An hour and three ciders later Julia convinced Mickey to head toward the bonfire. As usual, all the cool people had gravitated there, as though flame was a magnet for popularity. The guys here laughed the loudest, drank the most, and had a number of scantily clad girls circling around them like denim-short wearing satellites. There was the footballer who dumped Ash on New Year’s Eve, the dude who was in a semi-recognizable punk band and a collection of other vaguely familiar, symmetrical faces.
“Bingo,” Julia said as she eyed off a good-looking redhead. “What’s my angle here? Do I walk up? Do I wait for a weaker one to separate from the herd? What do you think?”
Mickey frowned. “Are you sure you want to go over there? Those guys are a lot older than us.”
“Older is good. Older means experience.”
A huge blond-haired guy with sleeve tattoos moved away from the fire. Mickey said something else, but Julia didn’t hear a single word. She was staring at the man who had been standing behind Thor. He was the most gorgeous man Julia had ever seen, tall with black hair and so handsome he could have passed for Satan himself, gracing Earth with his terrible beauty.And if the devil was half as hot as this guy, I’d sacrifice myself for him no questions asked.Her chest ached with a longing she hadn’t felt since she was six and all the charity Christmas hampers were exchanged for longnecks.
“Who are you staring at?” Mickey whispered “Jim Wentworth? Holly said he’s nice when he’s not too stoned.”
“No, the tall one with the black hair and the leather jacket.”
Mickey gasped. “No way. He’s so…He’s like something off TV.”
“He’s more how Satan would look like if he needed to seduce you into drowning a baby.”
“You’re right, total Prince of Darkness material.”
Julia adjusted her dress. “Right, I’m gonna go talk to him.”
Mickey grabbed her arm. “You can’t! He’s probably got a girlfriend.”
“If he does he’ll tell me to go away.”
Mickey pointed to the brunette at his side. “He’s talking to Bianca Hooper. He won’t want to talk to you.”
Julia shook off her arm. “Mick, I love you but you’re doing some major shy-girl projecting. I have to go up to him, for ladies everywhere. And my vagina.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Crazy like a fo—”
The tall man looked at her, his eyes blazing red and orange in the firelight.
Mickey squealed, pressing her face into Julia’s shoulder. Determined not to also dissolve into schoolgirl theatrics, Julia stared back at him. The Prince of Darkness’s lips curved and she finally understood what swooning was. It felt like being pulled into a bath full of hot cider. He made a little gesture, a crook of his beer bottle that said, “Come over here.”
This couldn’t be a coincidence. A super-hot stranger who wanted to talk to her on the exact night that she wanted to meet one? This had to be fate. Julia shook her shoulders like a boxer before a bout. “I’m going to say hi before I pass out from this guy’s hotness. Wish me luck.”
Mickey somewhat reluctantly let go of her arm. “Good luck.”
Julia walked toward the fire, doing her best impression of someone who never overthought walking. She noticed a few of the guys checking her out and threw her shoulders back. The Prince of Darkness looked up as she approached. His eyes were so black it was almost impossible to see the pupils, neither friendly nor unfriendly but curious.Mischievous. Julia walked up to him, flushing madly but hoping the firelight would hide it. She paused in front of the blaze, extending her palms to the heat, her whole body tingling like one big, exposed nerve. “How’s it going?”
Lucifer looked amused. “Pretty good now.” His voice was deep and throaty like he smoked seven packs of cigarettes a day. “I’m Max.”
Max. It suited him perfectly. Blunt and sharp like his soul-destroying eyes.