Why, oh why, did Jonah have to listen to my father’s rant about premarital sex? But since that’s off the table for another four months (oh yes, I’m counting down the days), we compromise with a kiss that curls my toes and turns the room twenty degrees too warm for comfort.
“Why are we here again?” he murmurs, forehead against mine. His heartbeat sprints under my palms. It’s a feeling I adore.
My words are breathy. “You insisted.”
His head turns against mine. “You must be mistaken. Why would I do that when we could be at home, alone and—”
Raul bumps into us, knocking us apart. He’s waving his hands around in the air, shouting out a greeting. “Get a hotel room, why don’t you?” Cora smirks. The smiles on both my and Jonah’s faces slip slowly away. The moment has been effectively ruined.
I try not to think of a hotel room, exactly one year before. I reach for Jonah’s hand, to ground myself. Caleb’s right. Things are different now. Jonah and I are together, and we’re going to get married, and we’re going to have our happily ever after. Last year is behind us. He and Callie are over. I made my choice. There will be no more hotel rooms shared with Kellan again.
I try not to think about how much that saddens me. And then I get angry because I shouldn’t be upset.
I made my choice. It was the right choice.
Raul gives Cora a quick kiss and barrels towards whomever he’d flagged down. She turns to me, grimacing. “Ugh.”
“Why ugh?” I frown down at my margarita; it tastes like crap, to be honest. And then we lose Jonah’s attention, too; some guy I don’t know has him talking sports.
Cora hitches a thumb in Raul’s direction. “Those guys are bad news.”
I peer into the crowd. It takes a few moments, but I finally spot Raul. He’s talking to Maccon Lightningriver and a few other guys I’m only vaguely familiar with.
I abandon my so-called drink. “How so?”
“Every time he goes out with them,” she says, “he comes back with a broken bone. Or worse, some kind of lipstick on his shirt, which he claims was an accident. You know?”
“You think he’s cheating on you?” I ask, but she smiles and shakes her head.
“I know he’s not,” she says, and then Jonah leans into me and says he and Kai will be right back. I do a double-take as they walk away, realizing Sports Guy is actually Sushi Guy as Cora continues, “For all of Raul’s swagger and game, he’s as trustworthy as a person gets. He’d never hurt me by cheating.”
She is confident with this assertion, which is a good thing as there’s some waifish Elf with wavy hair floating like a halo around her, throwing her head back to laugh, her hand on Raul’s shoulder.
“I’d never be able to forgive him if he ever did that to me,” Cora says, and when I go still, she sighs. “Foot, meet mouth. Sorry, Chloe.”
“It’s not like Jonah and I are poster children for cheaters,” I snap.
She appears genuinely contrite. “I’m just saying.” Which, as it so happens, does not actually sound contrite.
Jonah texts to tell me he and Kai met up with a few old friends, so I follow Cora over to where Raul is. While Cora asserts herself in between her boyfriend and the model wannabe, I turn to say greet Mac, who’s flirting with someone who is definitely not Izadorna.
It’s Sam, the Guard with violet streaked hair that tried to pump me for info in the hospital as I was recovering from the mission from hell. And even though I’m sure she’s a perfectly nice girl, she still irritates me, as she’s now a Belladonna lackey in my mind. Because why else would she’d been at the hospital? But Mac is oblivious to this as he pulls me in for a hug. “I was hoping you’d come,” he grins, and I have no doubt he’s had his fair share of saké tonight thanks to his overly shiny eyes.
Saké ought to be the official drink for people trying to escape their problems.
A Dwarf with a huge tray filled with filled glasses offers me one. Good lords, do I want one—especially on the heels of the drink Cora ordered me—but I politely decline.
“Hi Chloe,” Sam says to me. I give her a smile, but it’s thin at best. She takes the hint and excuses herself to go talk to somebody else nearby.
“Sam thinks you don’t like her,” Mac says to me, amused.
Sam thinks right. I ask delicately, “Where’s Izadorna?”
He sighs heavily and rubs at his forehead. “Is it wrong that I don’t care?”
I don’t answer that. “I had no idea you were friends with Raul.”
He glances at our mutual pal. “Yeah, he’s good for some fun, you know? We went sky diving earlier today. That psycho dared us to pull our cords at the very last possible minute.” My eyebrows shoot sky high, and he chuckles. “No worries, though. I only broke my ulna. Should’ve seen your fiancé’s brother. Broke his collarbone, dislocated an arm, and shattered a kneecap.”
WHAT?
“It’s a good thing we get Sam to come along,” he continues, oblivious to the dismay I must surely be showing. And then he lifts his shirt and runs a finger over a series of notches carved into the leather of his belt.
I fear I already know the answer, but I ask anyway. “What are those?”