Another Curvy Girl and Grumpy Vamp (Just Another Girl Meets… #5)

1. Baden

Baden

T his city is a long, jagged scratch on a priceless car. You love the car, but that fucking scar—is the noise, the traffic, the incessant human chaos that makes you question if it’s worth it. Spoiler alert: It’s not.

All day I’ve fought my way through the usual stampede of people, the kind that would trample you just to get somewhere half a second faster. The honking cars, the sharp mix of scents that clogs my nose—it’s all the same. Patience, Luca used to tell me, though that was when running people down in the streets could still be part of my evening entertainment. The irony? In the end, Luca lost his patience, not me.

I shake off the morose thoughts. My day is finally over. No need to pretend to be civil. No reason to stop my nails from clawing through my assistant’s skin and wrapping around his neck. Although he’d probably haunt me from the grave. Shaking one last file in my face before his master, Lucifer, dragged him to the depths of hell. Humans, I growl to myself. Why can’t we just slay them and be done? They’d be happier—we’d definitely be happier.

Well, except for the ones who mated them. I grimace. I may not have found my one, but there’s no way in hell I’d choose someone with such a fleeting life span to join my immortal one.

The parking garage’s gate opens automatically, the soft clicks inviting me into the dull quiet. My city sanctuary welcomes me like a lover. A lover I’ve stayed away from too long, if the paperwork I’d slogged through was any judge. The fluorescent lights safely illuminate the cavern, while shadows stalk the corners like predators. I loosen my tie and roll my neck as I drive the Bugatti up the spiral incline. The floor numbers whiz past me, and I finally near my parking spot. My shoulder rolls back as the boulders between my shoulder blades release. I’m almost home.

Then I see it.

An abomination parked in my reserved spot. My jaw clenches and for a split second, I consider ramming it. My Bugatti could use the workout.

What kind of person drives something this hideous? It’s not even an actual car. It’s one of those compact, faux-tough vehicles that’s more bark than bite. My eyes trace the offending car’s shape, catching on a ridiculous bumper sticker of smiling daisies, asking. “Bestie, please let me merge?” To the right, another sticker declares, “Hot Girls—Hit Curbs.”

I rethink wrecking it.

The interior light shines on its occupant. A low growl vibrates through my chest, an ancient sound I’m tempted to fully unleash. Instead, I park directly behind it. Whoever owns this clown car is about to have the smile wiped from every damn daisy.

I slam my car door shut, ready to tear into this moron, and—

The door swings open.

And I stop so hard I almost trip over my feet.

The words that had been building, the rant about reserved parking, the lecture on respecting other people’s space—halts. The world stops spinning, leaving me dizzy the moment she steps out. I’m frozen, bespelled, as she emerges, arms full of books that she’s wrestling into a backpack.

The vaccine to cure vampirism dampens colors, leaving the world in muted grays. My life is in perpetual grayscale like a black and white movie. But her dark brown skin glows. Her hair—a cloud of thick curls—catches the overhead lights, in a halo effect. An angel.

What the hell?

My heart, or what’s left of it, stirs. This woman, this…stunning creature, is standing, oblivious to my presence, while my senses haywire. Her scent—sweet, warm, with an undercurrent of something darker—crashes into my gut as if I really had hit her car. It’s not just her scent. There’s something…more. A connection. An undeniable pull that goes beyond attraction.

No. Not this. Not again. The last time I let myself get close to a human, I—

Claudia wasn’t even mine to grieve. That doesn’t stop her face from flashing in my mind, doesn’t stop the weight of it from pulling at me. I shove the thought away, burying it deep.

“This spot is reserved,” I say, my voice coming out harder than I intended. A whip that lashes the cement between us.

Her head snaps up, like a deer on the side of a dark road. Wide eyes lock onto mine. Doe-shaped, with lashes that defy gravity. She blinks, and I hear her heart racing when my words sink in.

“Oh,” she stammers. If a song can soothe a savage beast, then her voice is the melody. I gird myself against its magic. “I…I’m sorry. I didn’t realize anyone actually parked here. I’m usually in and out so quick. Grad student life, you know?”

I don’t know, but her tone—light, teasing—makes me want to.

Not just know. I want to live inside that world she’s talking about. I want to know what her day was like, why she’s here, why she’s rushing, and why she thinks it’s okay to park in my space. It’s madness. I’ve never cared about mundane details like this. Not in centuries.

I haven’t wanted anything, craved anything , in a very long time. Being richer than sin, literally and figuratively , handsome as hell, others’ words not mine , and the whole vampire thing, means I can have whatever I want. So, it’s an effort not to step forward, close the small distance between us, and seize this divine creature. The strength of my want holds me back and bricks the wall. Instead of interrogating her further, I stay silent, my gaze drifting down to her perfect bow lips. I imagine pulling her into me, feeling her against my chest, and tasting the warm sweetness of her mouth. It’s a primal urge, one I’ve spent centuries suppressing.

But it’s there. And it’s as powerful as it is wrong.

She tries again, “You know what they say, if the parking spot owner’s away than a girl’s gonna stay.” A dimple winks up at me from an elfish smile. Too bad I loathe elves.

I narrow my eyes. “Who exactly says that? Only you, perhaps?”

She lifts her fingers and pretends to count. “No. There’s… Hmm, you’re right, I may be the first. Should I trademark it? Think I could make money on a bumper sticker?”

“Since you seem to be the queen of hideous bumper stickers, you could answer better than I.”

She taps her chin before giving me another dimpled smile. “Hmm, maybe. I’ll investigate it. Thanks for the suggestion.”

“I absolutely did not,” I growl, and this time the lowered timbre wipes her smile. I should take my victory, but her fear disarms me in a way her cheer did not.

“This…uh, it won’t happen again,” she says, biting her bottom lip nervously. My control frays until the cord becomes a single strand. She doesn’t know that the simple act of biting her lip sends a shockwave rippling through me. Every muscle in my body tenses, and for a split second, I see myself pinning her to her eyesore vehicle and kissing her until she can’t breathe. Staking my claim until neither of us can.

No. Focus, Baden.

“Make sure that it doesn’t,” I grind out. I sound angrier than necessary, but the best way to stop myself is to push her away. Because I may be one of the undead—but I have never, would never, force myself on a woman.

Her eyes widen, and she steps back slightly, as if she reads the internal battle raging in me. Something flashes in her gaze. It’s not fear, but recognition. As if she sees beyond my exterior, past the brooding front and into the pit of my darkness. Darkness that hasn’t seen light in centuries. And this mere chit of a girl is full of light.

“Right,” she mutters, shaking her head and backing away. Her smile withering beneath by glower. “I’ll move it right away.” She waves to my car. “If you’ll just…” Right. I’m blocking her. She can’t get out until I leave. My mind refuses to move, but my feet do.

Good. That’s the right choice. Move the car. Get out of here. Let me forget the way you look. Let me go back to pretending I don’t feel anything.

But even as she heads toward her door, my eyes don’t release her. They track every movement, the sway of her apple hips, the soft curl of her fingers as they fumble for her keys. My muscles clench, my body betraying my mind. I shouldn’t care. I don’t care.

But I do.

I’m forced to move first. Reluctantly, I drag myself back to the Bugatti. This shouldn’t irritate me as much as it does. With a frustrated sigh, I reverse the car, giving her enough space to escape. She should thank me. She won’t.

She finally fumbles the door open and gets back into the thing she considers a car. When she gets into the driver’s seat, something blinks in her expression. It’s gone before I can decipher it. She gives me a sunny smile and a cheery wave when she catches my eyes in her rearview. Does she feel the pull too? It’s subtle, but it’s there. If so, why is she smiling? Not a damn thing about this interaction is giving me the “Happy Vibes” she’s promoting on yet another bumper sticker.

She starts the engine, and the sound of it rumbles through the silence. Warning me that I still haven’t given her enough space. When I do, she reverses out, her curls bouncing with each tiny motion. The disturbingly bright car peels away like it’s taunting me. Before she goes, she gives me a cheeky little toot-toot on the horn. The sound breaks the garage’s sound barrier. It’s light and …playful.

Who the hell beep-beeps a vampire?

She’s gone before I can say another word, swallowed up by the garage’s gray maze. My preternatural hearing picks up her engine as she searches for another parking spot. The space she leaves behind is colder, frigid. Which is absurd. Unless she’s a witch—she’s not—then she her absence can’t change the weather. She holds no power—over anything—certainly not me. She’s just a grad student with a bad parking habit and an annoying car.

Still, I wonder: where is she going? Does she have a safe spot to park? This city is dangerous, full of unpredictable assholes, both normal and paranormal. Even with the resident-only access, anyone could slip in. I continue listening for her car, the opening and closing of her door, her footsteps. I’m just being practical. That’s all this is—a logical concern for a stranger wandering into a potential threat. Yeah. That’s what it is.

But what if—

She’s meeting someone? A man?

Sharp anger pierces rational thought, rooting me to the spot. My hands grip the edges of the steering wheel begging me to follow and rip the guy apart. Did she leave me for someone else? Flames burn through my veins. Jealousy gnaws at me, tightening its grip.

It’s none of my business. None. She’s nothing to me. A human parking poacher. Nothing more. Which doesn’t explain the fire churning my gut.

Her atrocious vehicle disappeared down the ramp a while ago. Her taillights faded into the abyss. And yet, her scent lingers. I should stay in the car. Wait it out. Give the aroma time to dissipate before wading into it again. Would the extra time matter? Rhetorical question, I know the answer. I could go a lifetime and follow her scent trail. Something about her found a way under my skin.

For centuries, I’ve avoided this. I’ve walked through the world detached, watching humans live their insignificant lives with their petty dramas and fleeting desires. None of it mattered to me. I made sure of that. After Claudia…there was no point in feeling anything. It only led to pain.

But this woman with her curls and sass—she’s cracked something open. And I’m not sure how to stop it. I grit my teeth, pulling my mind out of the chaotic storm swirling through it. No. I can’t go down that road again. Not after what happened last time.

I shut the engine off with a hollow finality. Forcing myself to put this encounter in a box. Lock it away. I’ve been through worse. I’ve seen more. This is nothing. It has to be. But as I make my way to my penthouse’s private elevator, I’m still thinking about her. And that, more than anything, is dangerous.

The metal doors slide open on the twentieth floor—where I lord over every other resident. The cool air of my city sanctuary does little to calm the heat simmering in my blood. I tear off my suit jacket and toss it onto the sleek, dark leather couch. My hands, which have been steady for centuries, are trembling. A human. A woman—I don’t even know her damn name—has done this to me.

I stand in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, staring at the blinking lights below. From here, the constant motion, the chaos looks beautiful. Moments ago, in that very chaos, I almost lost control.

I should be angry. Absolutely furious that someone parked in my spot, wasted my time and disrupted my evening. But I’m not. Instead, I’m… unsettled. Rattled. And I hate it. I catch my reflection in the window—the slack tie, the tired eyes that haven’t smiled in decades. And behind the reflection, there’s Claudia’s face again, smiling in that way she used to, soft and serene. But her face shifts, blurring into my parking bandit.

I slam my fist against the glass, the windows rattle but hold strong under the force. This is ridiculous. There’s no point in going down this road again. And yet, despite all my logic, something about her calls to me.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out, grateful for the distraction. The screen lights up with a message from Javier, my head of security.

Javier: What’s up, boss?

I stare at the message. I texted him from the elevator. But I debate replying. Part of me wants to know everything about her. Where she goes, who she spends her time with, what she dreams about at night. But another part of me—the part that’s spent centuries detaching from everyone—senses catastrophe. I shouldn’t dig deeper. I’ve walked this painful path before.

I type out a quick response.

Me: Check the feed. Girl in my reserved spot. Get everything we have on her.

I slip the phone back into my pocket. The hunger claws at me, stronger now, sharper than it’s been in centuries. Alive and pulsing with life. I haven’t craved like this since I was made. When the ravenous thirst for blood would call me through the night until I answered it. A hunger that eviscerated the last dregs of my humanity. Turning me into an animal hunting until satiated. I hated being at the mercy of my desires. Hated the things I would do to get what I desperately wanted. I took the vaccine so that I could stop the hunger. And yet, here I am…

Craving.