HAZEL
The guy smiling at us, I can’t recall ever meeting him; have no idea why he’s staring like he knows us.
His smile, although wide, seems cruel. He’s taller, nearly as tall as Asher. His hair is dyed a startling shade of red and there are piercings on his brows, as well as the corner of his right lip. He’s wearing a brown leather jacket over a black turtleneck shirt.
I’ll admit. He looks pretty good but definitely not my type.
“Hunter,” Asher sounds surprised to see him. “What are you doing at a place like this?”
“I should be asking you that question. And who is this?” The guy— Hunter— fixes his attention on me. He stares hard. As if trying to unravel all my secrets.
Why is he staring so intently? Has he seen me somewhere before? Does he know me?
I open my mouth to ask him as
