“Do I have any other option?” His lips quirked.
“You could have easily moved to another seat. The place isn’t full yet, and there are plenty of places to choose from.”
“I’m lazy.” He shrugged.
“Or you simply don’t want to admit you find me amusing,” Mystique said.
“Aren’t you a little full of yourself?” He smiled and she returned the gesture. Yes, she was breaking through to him.
“Not really, I’m just confident. There’s nothing wrong with a bit of confidence.”
“Sure.” He glanced at his empty beer. “Except, pride is a sin.”
Mystique frowned. Where did that come from? She cleared her voice. She wouldn’t give up now. He’d smiled and that was a first step.
“So what brings you to Lance?”
“Work,” he answered without looking at her.
“What do you do?” she insisted.
“Nothing,” he said.
Mystique laughed. Fuck. She’d lost him. She didn’t know how or why, but he was back to being standoffish.
“And what does this nothing imply?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
“So you’re a secret agent.” She waited for him to smile, but he remained impassive.
He ran his fingers through his hair, causing the shorter strands to fly in all directions. Mystique sighed. She chewed on her bottom lip. One last try. She’d give it one last minute, and if she didn’t get a positive outcome, she’d leave.
“What’s your secret mission?”
“Avoiding girls like you,” he snapped.
“Wow.” She blinked, taken aback by the sudden hostility. She should have dropped the subject the moment he said he didn’t do anything for a living. Damn it. Why did she always have to be so persistent?
“All right, I’ll leave you alone.” She stood. “I’ll get you another. Sorry for bothering you.” She reached for his empty bottle and he grabbed her elbow. A current ran down her arm, and she pulled away. He released her immediately.
“Listen, I’m sorry,” he said. “Name’s Reine.” The green in his eyes had softened to a darker shade that reminded her of crushed pine leaves. “I needed a change of scenery, that’s why I came to Lance,” he said.
