For the next twenty minutes, I played my part to perfection. We sat and talked, and I laughed at his not-so-funny jokes, throwing in enthusiastic agreements to everything he said so it seemed like we had a ridiculous amount in common. I leaned into him, letting him press heavy kisses against my neck and ear as he whispered in my ear, telling me a long story about his dog.
Suddenly, a massive shadow cut through the neon glow of the booth, blocking out the light from the bar.
We both looked up.
Drakon stood at the entrance of the VIP area, flanked by a couple of his patched Iron Reapers. Roman didn't miss a beat. He leaned back into the leather, a smug smile on his lips. "Drakon. You finally made it."
"I guess that's my cue," I said, putting on a sweet smile and starting to slide out of
