“Hmm,” he murmurs, and I take a healthy step back as the corner of his mouth lifts. “You seem concerned.”
I glare at him. “I am concerned. My best friend could be in danger. I don’t want her to get hurt. And you—” I bite the inside of my cheek. “It’s dangerous,” I mutter.
“I will protect my people, Aurora.”
“Who protects you?” I blurt. If my concern for him wasn’t clear by the energy I’ve been giving off, he knows about it now. It’s funny, it doesn’t bother me as much as I thought it would.
He’s silent for a few beats. “You never fail to surprise me.”
“Why do you say that?”
He pins me with a focused gaze that turns the temperature of my body way up. “You spend your time trying to hate me for what happened when we met, which is fair, but you don’t, do you?”
The muscles in my jaw tighten. “Are you kidding?”
“Your cheeks flush when I’m around, and I make your pulse race. I can hear your heartbeat right now.”
“An excellent observation,” I remark dryly despite the dampness on my palms.
“I affect you.”
My pulse jumps, and he smirks as if to say told you. “That’s ridiculous,” I say.
“Is that why your heart is trying to beat its way out of your chest right now?”
“No,” I grumble. “You’re wrong.”
Tristan cocks his head. “I don’t think I am.” His eyes glimmer with heat, and my throat goes dry. “Now you look afraid,” he muses.
“Why are you doing this?”
“I’m used to you being upfront with your feelings, so this is new.”
My eyes narrow. “Are you expecting me to say I’m head over heels for you and will worship at your feet?” I laugh. “Just because I don’t hate you anymore, just because I care if you’re in danger, doesn’t mean—”
“What? That you feel something for me?”
My heart stutters, and at this point, I don’t care that he heard it. Maybe I do feel something for Tristan, but I’ll be damned if I let myself admit it out loud. I cast my gaze away from him. “You’re busy enough with fae politics today. You don’t need to deal with me.” His words play over in my head on a loop. You feel something for me. I need to get out of this room, away from his presence that makes my head spin. “Staying here isn’t going to help anything, so I might as well go back to my dorm and prep for my study group tonight.”
“Be my guest,” he replies.
I brush past him, grabbing my things from the couch. Then I head for the door and slam it shut behind me.
Marisa frowns at me when I walk through the lobby downstairs. “You’re heading home already?”
I nod. “Yeah, I—”
“Get your ass back here, blondie.” Max approaches us from the elevator. He wasn’t sitting at the desk upstairs when I left, so I thought I’d gotten lucky.
I sigh. “Maybe not.”
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks. He glances at Marisa and offers her a nod.
“Home,” I say.
He shakes his head and grabs my arm before he walks away, dragging me with him. Because that’s not an odd thing to do in a lobby full of people. Subtlety is lost on Max.
“What the hell, Max? Let go of me,” I demand.
“Chill out, human.” He releases his grip and faces me. “What did you do?”
“What are you talking about?” I counter.
“Tristan is up there snapping at people; he’s pissed. So, I’ll ask again. What did you do?”
“I tried to help.”
He barks out a laugh. “Why would you want to help? We kidnapped you. We forced you into this world, and now you want to help? What do you think that says about you?”
It’s my turn to laugh. “You’re the one who kidnapped me. What do you think that says about you?”
He grins. “Fair point.” He shrugs. “Do what you want, blondie, but try not to piss Tristan off. For some reason, he seems to care about you, but when he’s moody we’re the ones who have to deal with it.”
“Then he needs to grow up and control his emotions.”
His eyes flash with amusement. “You feel free to let him know. I would love to see where that gets you.”
“I bet you would.” I adjust the bag on my shoulder. “I’m going home. Skylar isn’t here, and Tristan isn’t in the mentoring mood. I’ll be back next week.”
“Your choice.” He rakes his fingers through his hair. “How’s that roommate of yours doing?”
“Allison? What do you mean? She’s fine.”
He tilts his head. “Really?” He draws out the word.
I scowl. “Yeah, really. Why?”
“I’m surprised she got off so easily with Tristan.”
“What are you talking about? So she’s dating Oliver. Big deal.”
“She got in trouble for dating a human?” He laughs. “Is that what she told you?”
My eyes narrow. “Don’t. I know what you’re trying to do, and it’s not going to work.”
He holds up his hands. “Think whatever you want, blondie. There’s no rule against fae dating humans. Your friend managed to sneak around the truth without lying. I’m sort of impressed.”
I swallow, my chest tightening under the pressure of Max’s words. “I have to go.” I don’t wait for him to say anything else.
While I wait for the streetcar, I pull out my phone and send a new message to Allison.
I’m coming home. We need to talk. Now.
Allison is sitting at the end of her bed when I storm into our dorm room less than fifteen minutes later. I throw my bag down and take a deep breath before facing her. Her eyes widen in what looks like apprehension.
“Why did you lie to me?” I ask in a calm tone. I’m trying to allow her a chance to explain before I get angry. I don’t want to be mad at my best friend.
She shakes her head. “What?”
“Dating Oliver isn’t against the rules. There isn’t a rule about fae dating humans.”
She looks away. “I didn’t lie—I can’t—I just didn’t correct you when you assumed that Oliver was my indiscretion.”
My eyes widen. “What the hell? Care to explain what actually happened?”
She sighs. “Okay. This is going to sound terrible, and you’ll probably hate me, but please let me explain before you decide to never speak to me again.”
I stare at her. “Tell me.”
“I cheated on Oliver. Well, sort of. It was mutual.”
I open and close my mouth twice before I can form words. And then I manage to say, “What?”
“Oliver doesn’t love me.” Her voice is light, as if she isn’t upset by what she’s telling me, whereas I’m freaking out on the inside. God, why did Max have to open his mouth and screw things up? Why did Allison keep this from me?
“Are you kidding? Of course he does.”
“Not romantically. He loves me like he loves you. Platonically.”
“But you guys have been together for years,” I say. I’m more upset about this than she is.
“I know.” She folds her hands in her lap. “We started off as a genuine couple, but since the beginning of the summer, we haven’t been together.”
I think about the dates I tagged along for over the years. I don’t understand what she’s saying. “You need to keep talking.” There’s an edge to my voice.
“We aren’t together anymore,” she repeats. “We’re keeping up the ruse for Oliver’s sake.”