Free Downtown Devil: Book 2 in series (Sins in the City) by Cara McKenna

anyhow.”
    “No?”
    “From strangers, random jerks, sure. Not so much at school. I was with the same kids pretty much from first grade through graduation. Everybody knew who I was and was used to how I look. Though I can’t say I didn’t spend most of that time secretly wishing I could just blend in, look like everybody else. But the kids weren’t usually too bad.” She sipped her cooling coffee, nearly sad it was no longer too hot to drink. She was enjoying this chat.
    “But when I was out in the world,” she went on, “in college across town, or in the clubs or wherever, I got plenty of reminders that I was different. It never really bothered me much, though. I mean, fuck whoever wants to say something shitty to me about it, or any guys who want to treat me like some exotic novelty or whatever. That only saves me the trouble of figuring out if they’re worth talking to, you know?”
    Vaughn smiled, flashing all his perfect teeth. “I feel you. Like a built-in asshole-detection system.”
    “Totally.” She looked to her cup. “I better finish this so you can get on with your morning.”
    He glanced at the clock, shrugged. “I’ve got plenty of time.”
    “Well, I better get my own ass in gear anyhow. I need to get home and shower. There’s a yoga class at eleven I’d like to catch. And a city to scour for more interesting faces.”
    “Cool.”
    She stood, draining the last of her coffee as she walked to the sink. She washed out the mug and set it on the drying rack. “Thanks again,” she told Vaughn, checking her purse for the essentials.
    “My pleasure.”
    “Tell Mica bye for me, I guess, when you see him. Unless that sounds bitchy.”
    Vaughn laughed. “He’s not the type to overanalyze.” He stood, walking her to the door, flipping the dead bolt. “You know how to get where you’re going?”
    “Oh yeah, it’s not far. I walked here last night.”
    “Of course. Well, maybe I’ll see you around.”
    She smiled, and felt a blush warming her cheeks. “Maybe.”
If your friend asks me over again, I’ll be here quicker than dignity should allow.
“Take care, Vaughn.”
    “You, too.”
    —
    Vaughn shut the door at Clare’s back and shook his head to himself as he walked back to the table.
    Nice girl. Nice, interesting, charming. Sexy.
The kind of girl he’d have worked hard to find the nerve to ask out himself, had they met at a bar or somewhere. Though that was neither here nor there—if Mica was her type, Vaughn very likely wasn’t. Best friends or not, they couldn’t be much less alike.
    He picked up his phone and typed out a text.
    You forget something in your bed this morning?
    He didn’t expect a reply, but Mica came back a minute later with, You offer her a coffee at least?
    Vaughn rolled his eyes, typed, You’re the worst.
    Not really, though. Mica wasn’t being a dick in his mind about the Clare situation. He hadn’t flaked on her because he didn’t think she deserved the courtesy of a little morning-after chat. He’d flaked because he was oblivious, and a little insensitive, just thoroughly useless when it came to this stuff. Vaughn had tried explaining this shit to his friend, but it was pointless.
    We had a real nice talk. You’ll be lucky if she gives you another chance, dumb-ass. She seems cool.
    And she was hot, no fucking doubt. Vaughn had always gravitated toward those bohemian types. Artists and musicians—creative girls, to bring a little spontaneity into his life, since he was Mr. Predictable, Mr. Routine. Though for as long as Mica was staying with him, Vaughn doubted he’d be having much luck in that department. He wasn’t blind. He knew his best friend was basically catnip to women. Good-looking, fearless, flirtatious. Vaughn didn’t think he was too shabby himself, but his dad had taught him to be a gentleman, and nice guys
did
finish last, at least when the competition was as charismatic as Mica.
    He waited to see what Mica had to say to his last