and plants herself beside me. “Thought I might find you here.” She plucks at the black flowy pants that Sarah probably forced her into. Her grimace betrays how she likens the things to spider webs. The knit top and cropped jacket don’t fare much better, victims of her shrugging and squirming. For a few seconds, I watch her do it. I’m not used to this look, such a departure from the cargo pants and book-centric tees that have been her daily norm since the day I walked into the store nearly nineteen years ago.
I was a reclusive, terrified kid then. She was restocking the bestsellers section, and when she said I could keep any book I wanted if I helped her out, a friendship was born.
I let her silently fidget through another minute or so before I break the silence.
“What’re you doing up here? Aren’t you supposed to be hosting a party?”
She answers with nothing but a frustrated sound.
“Guess I wasn’t the only one who’d had enough of the mob,” I mutter.
“You said it.” A dry laugh escapes her. “Funny thing is, Melora Hall seems the most sane of the bunch.”
I’m surprised, but I know all about preconceptions. “Maybe the biggest voices in the jungle have the least to prove.”
She shifts her gaze from the sparkling skyline toward me. “Or the most.”
I stiffen.
She focuses harder on me. She gets it. I know she does. She knows I still have to think about this shit nearly every day. Being the giant in the room, in many senses, doesn’t give me the freedom to do whatever I want. It means I’m forever proving to the world that I’m better than my instincts. It means stressing about smashing all the china.
Or the walls.
Or the people.
“Do you really want to know why I’m up here?”
There it is again. That quiet funnel of her concentration, making me want to fidget worse than her. “If I say no, you’ll tell me anyway.”
She smirks and then bumps my shoulder. “I’m here because you are.”
I shrug, hoping to appear more detached than I am. “Just needed some air. I’m fine. Honestly.”
Not remotely, but I hope she buys it. Inside I’m a mess. A turned-on, conflicted mess that I can’t begin to explain to this sweet woman with her unconditional loyalty to me.
“You’re not,” she answers flatly. “I have eyes, you know. I saw you with that Valari girl.”
She says it as if she already knows thoughts of Kara have been slamming my frontal lobe for the last hour.
That quickly, my libido succumbs to another tsunami of memories. The crush of the crowd. The nearness of soft skin in a flimsy sundress. The smell of that skin, a succulent mix of roses and cinnamon and smoke. The same heat that was thick in her huge brown eyes, taking me in like we were the only trees still standing in a burning forest.
But playing with fire means someone usually gets burned.
I turn quickly from Reg. “It wasn’t what it looked like.”
“Famous last words?”
“The room was crowded and noisy.” I jam my hands into my pockets, awkward as it is from my seated position. “You didn’t see what you thought, Regina.”
Her inhalation is so sharp, it sounds like a whistle. “Did you just go there? With the full name? Because even mighty Maximus can’t escape a shot of hand soap instead of creamer in his next cup of coffee.”
I try hard not to laugh. The woman usually pulls the first day’s shift at the store’s coffee bar, so I know she can—and would—make that happen with the latte I always pick up on my way to campus.
“With all due respect, Ms. Nikian, you still didn’t see anything.”
She lifts a dark brow. “Just like I never did when you nicked cookies out of the display?”
I submit to a chuckle. “Something like that.”
Her expression softens. “I’ve never seen you look at someone like that.”
I close my eyes, trying like hell not to show her any of my truth before meeting her penetrating stare. “For the last time, whatever you observed—”
“Before you give me your best lie, remember I’ve known you nearly your whole life. Now tell me, why are you flirting with a Valari?”
The way she slants the name prompts a defensive clench of my jaw.
“Is there something about her family name that especially bothers you?”
She winces slightly. “Call me curious. That’s all.” She reaches up and tenderly palms my cheek. “Of course, I can’t help but think she’s not worthy of you.”
She