Professor Black’s Possession
I pushed the door open and stepped inside and the first thing I saw was him.
Of course.
Chance Black.
Sitting at the far end of the bar, back straight, shoulders squared, one hand wrapped around a glass. He was dressed in black again. Always black. Sleeves rolled just high enough to show the edge of a tattoo, hair pushed back from his face, eyes sharp.
I froze for half a second.
Then I muttered under my breath.
“Of course he’s everywhere I go.”