“I would guess so.” And I was doubly glad I didn’t share her town house anymore. Mallory owned the place, and I’d been her roommate before I moved into Cadogan House. When Catcher moved in, there’d been a lot of naked canoodling in the public areas, including the kitchen. I, for one, hadn’t needed to see Omelet à la Catcher’s Naked Ass. “So, it sounds like things are fine right now?”
“They totally are. I guess that’s the part that worries me. It’s just, I love who we are right now. And I know part of being married is becoming ‘comfortable’ with each other. I just don’t want us to become so comfortable that we’re basically just roommates or something. I want to keep that spark alive.” She looked over at him, her eyes shining with love—and a little glazed with lust. And Catcher was alpha male in and out, front and back, and all the way through to the other side.
“Yeah, I don’t think that will be a problem,” I concluded.
“I mean, we can’t keep our hands off each other. That’s why we were late,” she said, winging up her eyebrows.
We’d picked up Mallory and Catcher in one of the House’s enormous black SUVs, since Ethan’s personal vehicle—a sleek black Ferrari—had been destroyed in a car chase with one of Reed’s cronies.
So they’d been at it while we were sitting outside on the curb, completely unaware.
“Well,” I said after a stiff drink, “even if the pace, let’s say, does slow down, being comfortable with each other is awesome.”
I glanced at Ethan, who was standing on the other side of the table, cue in hand like the pike his Swedish countrymen might have used. “Having someone get you is pretty amazing.”
“He does get you, and that’s important.” She grinned. “But you can’t tell me Darth Sullivan doesn’t show you his ‘Dark Side’ regularly.”
“You’re ruining Star Wars for me. But to your point, yeah.” I grinned. “He’s plenty skilled with his, you know—”
“You’re trying not to say ‘lightsaber,’ but you really want to.”
“I really do.” I waved my hands for finality. “Let’s just say he’s got one and he knows how to use it.”
“Katana. Broadsword. Saber.”
“We were supposed to be discussing Catcher,” I reminded her. “And since I’ve seen his, ahem, broadsword plenty of times, I can verify he’s got one. I think every relationship has its ups and downs, its arcs. Sometimes rampant nakedness while a girl is trying to prep her damn ramen noodles.”
Mallory snorted into her drink. “They aren’t good for you anyway. Too much sodium.”
“I’m immortal,” I pointed out.
“You are that,” she said. “I hope you’re right. Do you think you and Darth Sullivan will be able to keep the spark alive six or seven hundred years from now?”
Immortality wasn’t something I thought about often, mostly because I couldn’t really imagine it. Ethan had been alive for nearly four hundred years. He’d seen war, violence, famine, and empires come and go. Assuming I stayed away from the business end of an aspen stake, I could see all that and more. But the expanse of time wasn’t something I could easily wrap my mind around.
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I can’t imagine not wanting him, but immortality is a long time.”
“And if he proposes?”
He’d hinted about it enough, preparing me for its inevitability, that “if” was really a conservative estimate. “When he proposes,” I said, “and if I say yes, then the decision is made. The deal is done, and there’s no going back.”
I smiled at that. Immortality intimidated me; commitment did not.
“Good,” Mallory said, then clinked her glass against mine in a toast. “Let’s drink to commitment. To the grouchy-ass men we love, who really should worship at our feet.” She grinned wickedly. “And do, when the incentive’s right.”
“I feel like we’re getting dangerously close to naked Catcher territory again.”
“We’re only territory adjacent,” she said with a wink. She put her glass down, looked at me for a few seconds. She smiled softly, as if she knew all the world’s secrets.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing. Just thinking about how much we’ve changed. Vampires, sorcerers, two sexy-as-hell and utterly egotistical men. An awkward adjustment for you, and a detour into darkness for me. And yet here we are, having a drink and preparing to go see the Cubbies.” She clinked her glass against mine. “I’d say we turned out pretty good.”
I couldn’t argue with that.
? ? ?
Ethan came out strong from the break and nearly ran the table. It was an inadvertent cue bump by a Novitiate who’d had a little too much to drink that spoiled the plan. The Novitiate was apologetic, but what was done was done. Her slip gave Catcher control of the table, and control it he did. He called each shot, nailed each shot, and when he was done, left Ethan staring at the wreckage.
Or so Catcher told the story. Given that his ego nearly matched Ethan’s in size and strength, I guessed the truth was somewhere in between.