Inspire (24 page)

I laugh and roll my eyes. And then a wicked idea occurs to me. Ever so slightly, I shift so that my thigh rubs against his groin, over and then back again. He drops down to rest his forehead against my temple and groans. “I don't know,” I say. “Are you really going to hold me like this
all night long
?”

That earns me a quick nip on my earlobe, and it's my turn to stifle a reaction.

“We're out of here right after midnight,” he growls. “I'm talking one minute after. Mom doesn't work tonight, and I don't want to share you with anyone else longer than I have to.” 

Wilder gets a text then, and he shifts me on his lap to fish out his phone. It's Lennox. He sends her a quick message to explain where we are in the bar, and a few minutes later, I see her pushing through the crowd with Mick, Jack, and Avery in her wake. Jack's eyes immediately find mine, and I stiffen.

“So you told them to come?” I ask.

“Yeah. Lennox called this afternoon. I figured the more the merrier.” He takes a strand of my hair between his finger and thumb and adds, “Plus, I thought if our friends became friends, we could all hangout together. That will mean more time for us together.”

I smile because he's just so sweet. But I'm not sure I can ever envision his friends and him spending time with Jack. The rest maybe, but not him. Wilder makes quick introductions when they arrive at the table, but with no seats, the four of them end up squeezed between our table and the wall.

“You want a drink?” Wilder asks in my ear.

I shake my head, and then I glance around the table again where a few people are having individual conversations because it's too loud for any kind of group discussion. I think better of it and say, “Actually, yeah. That would be great.”

“What do you want?”

“Any kind of cocktail is fine. Surprise me.”

Wilder leaves, and I immediately wish I had convinced him to stay or gone with him. Rook is on my left, in conversation with Lennox. Jack is directly across from me, and I look away fast before he thinks I want him to come talk to me. By avoiding him, I end up turning to Bridget on my right. Her eyes are narrowed on me, the slightest wrinkle of distaste on her nose as she takes me in.

“How long have you known Wilder?” she asks.

“Uh, we met a couple months back. You?”

“Six years.”

Damn
, she had that answer ready fast.

I nod, uncomfortable under her intense focus. Is she just a protective friend? Who maybe wishes she was more than a friend? God knows, I’ve seen plenty of those. She shifts her chair a little closer to mine, and then opens her mouth to ask me something else. But before she can, a hand closes around my wrist, and I’m pulled to my feet.

It’s Rook.

“Dance with me.”

I splutter for a moment, unsure how to respond.

“Wilder won’t mind. Trust me. Besides, I’m a
great
dancer.”

He gestures for Lennox and Mick to fill our spots at the table, and then pulls me away and into the crowd of moving bodies. It's a faster song, not something that's easy to dance to, but I try. I keep getting hit by elbows and flailing extremities though, so I end up close to Rook, just barely shifting from side to side. I can feel the bodies pressing around me, and I have to concentrate on breathing.

“Sorry about Bridget. She can be kind of a bitch.”

I frown. Why hang out with her then? Why say something like that about your friend?

“She can be really cool. I swear. But there's history there between her and Wilder.”

I flinch, blindsided. I hadn't even considered the idea that she might be his ex. I don't know why. But the thought that he brought me here with her, that they're still friends, is enough to make my stomach churn with nausea.

“It's over between them. They were shit together, and Wilder ended it a while ago. You've got nothing to worry about there.”

Then why am I worrying?

“How long is a while ago?”

He shrugs. “Eight, nine months. Something like that.”

Shit. I was hoping more for something in the years range. I take a deep breath, knowing it's not fair to expect him not to have exes. I sure as hell have a lot more than he does. But I never see mine again. She's his
friend
.

“Damn,” Rook says. “I shouldn't have said anything. I know fuck all about relationships, but this is a new low, screwing up other people's. Listen, don't be mad at him.”

“I'm not mad.”

I'm terrified. I can't lose him. I just can't. We've only known each other a month, and have been seeing each other officially for a little over a week, but he's already imprinted on my heart. No, deeper than that. He's wrapped up in my essence, my soul. I thought it was the same for him. I need it to be the same for him.

“You're sure? I feel like this is usually the part where girls go storming off or start yelling.”

“I'm not going to yell. Or storm off.”

I might walk away though. Just to get out of the crowd of people and catch my breath.

“He's serious about you. Really fucking serious. Please don't let my shitty mouth ruin that. I just didn't want her talking shit, trying to poison things between you. He doesn't want her, and she's just got to get over her obsession.”

The word rings darkly between us. Obsession. I think of Van. Of all the guys I've ever left behind that kept showing up, kept trying to win me back until finally I had to change my number or move or get a new life completely. I know a thing or two about obsession.

I also know that if things don't turn out how I want them to, I could end up doing that same thing to Wilder. I think of that ribbon of energy that had unfurled while he kissed me earlier, and I do a mental evaluation of my levels.

A three.

I started the night at a zero, and already I'm at a three.

“I need to run to the bathroom. Do you know where it is?”

“I don't think you want to go to the bathroom here.”

“I just need a second away from the noise and all the people. Please, tell me where it is.”

“You said you weren't going to storm off.”

“I'm not.
Please
. Rook, you don't know me. But trust me when I tell you that I just need a break. Please.”

He points behind me. “It's downstairs. Take a right as soon as you hit the first floor, behind the kiddie rides.”

“Thank you.”

I fight my way through the bodies, hyper aware every time someone's skin comes into contact with mine. It would be easy, just to let a tiny sliver of energy go with each of those touches. I could get back to zero quickly.

No
. I can't do that.
Can’t
.

I suck in a lungful of air as soon as I'm on the stairs. I take them fast, eager to have a moment just to shut down and process. Downstairs, there's a photo of a bearded lady hanging outside the women's restroom, and it swings a little as I push my way inside. There's a girl washing her hands at the sink, but other than that, the place appears to be empty. I push my way into a stall, lock the door, and then lean back against it, glad for the barrier between me and the rest of the world.

So he's friends with his ex. Can I really complain about that with all the
peculiarities
on my side of the relationship? I'll have to spend time with Jack. And Mick. And probably other guys. Besides … I know what we have is something extraordinary. Not just because of the way he makes me feel, but because of the fate thread I feel between us. I don't know if that means we're meant to be. If we're soul mates. But I know it means we're connected in a way that no one and nothing else can compete with. There are enough obstacles to our relationship without me allowing jealousy and fear to create more.

Already feeling better, I take a calming breath and concentrate on settling the energy inside me. My own anxiety antagonized it, and it's dangerous for me to let that kind of restlessness take over. I close my eyes, focus on breathing, and let everything else slip away but my body and the power. When it's settled, I'm relieved to feel that my levels are not quite as high as I'd thought out on the dance floor. Still above a zero for sure, but more like a two than a three. Much more manageable.

Ready to return to Wilder and the others, I push open the bathroom stall only to come to a halt when I see Bridget leaning against the bathroom sink. My steps falter, and my eyebrows raise. “Hi.”

“Sorry if I came off rude out there.”

Hesitantly, I take a step forward. Part of me just wants to bolt, but I decide to play it cool and wash my hands instead.

“Don't worry about it.”

“It's just that Wilder means a lot to me. To all of us. And he's going through a rough time right now—”

“I know.”

Her nostrils flare, and she stands up straight from where she's been leaning on the sink.

“He
told
you.”

I nod. She's silent as I finish rinsing the soap off my hands, and when I reach for a paper towel. I can feel the tension rolling off her beside me, but she remains quiet. I'm not about to stick around until she decides what she wants to say, so I move toward the door.

“Hang on.” She reaches out as I pass, lightly touching my elbow. But when we make contact, she gasps, and her fingers latch on like a vice around my arm. The energy I'd just cooled flairs to life, licking like flames at the inside of my lungs. Her body is shaking next to mine, and when I look up, her eyes have frosted over, pupils and irises covered by an icy white.

“Long have you kept your secrets, moúsa.”

My body jerks to attention at the name. The Greek term for muse. I yank my arm, trying to free it from her grasp, but her hold is like stone. “Through centuries,” she continues, “all your secrets and shame. The shroud of loneliness will be doffed. A reunion calls.”

An oracle. Wilder's friend and ex-girlfriend is a
godsdamned oracle
.

“To be made whole, all must first be lost. Daughter of Zeus. Queen of the grove song. Oh, clearest voice among the crowd. You will lose him to your secrets. Daughter of Zeus, maiden muse, bringer of madness. Erebus waits for your move. First shall meet last on death's breath.”

I yank again, and this time I manage to break her hold. We both gasp at the loss of contact, and I don't wait to watch her eyes clear and for the human half of Bridget to take hold. Oracles don't typically remember their visions and prophecies. She probably doesn't even know what she is. In fact, this could easily be her first episode. Coming into contact with me, someone with so much deity blood, could have called forth the dormant part of her nature.

I spin, storming for the door, and throw it open. Wilder is rushing toward me as I step out, and her words prick at my soul when I see him.

You will lose him to your secrets
.

Chapter Twenty

Wilder

“I'm sorry what?”

I stand against the busy bar, waiting for the drinks I just ordered, talking with Lennox while she attempts to flag down a bartender of her own.

“I said I'm glad I called Jack today. Your friends seem cool. I'm totally going to have to check out Rook's tattoos online.”

“Yeah. He's crazy talented. I'm sorry. What does Jack have to do with it?”

“I called him, and he was …” She trails off, and I catch the way her eyes widen just slightly. “Never mind. Don't listen to me. I did some pre-gaming before we came, so I'm already a little loopy.”

“Was Jack the one who told you we were going out tonight?”

She hedges, turning to call out for the bartender again rather than answer me.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” If Jack knew our plans, that means Kalli talked to him. I don’t like the guy, but I’m not about to tell Kalli who she can and can’t be friends with. I do wonder when she talked to him, though. She’s been busy working through the holidays. I’m about to dig for a little more information from Lennox, when Owen appears.

“Problem,” he mutters next to me.

I sigh. Generally, when Owen is coming to me with a problem, Rook has stuck his foot in somewhere it doesn't belong. I love the dude, but I swear to God I spent more time putting out his fires than actually making music when the band was still going strong. Inevitably, he was pissing off some bar manager or taking the wrong girl home or talking shit to the worst possible person.

“What did Rook do?”

“Nothing much. He danced with your girl.”

I frown. He's my best friend, but he also spends eighty percent of his life thinking with his dick, and I swear to God if he came on to Kalli, I won't be responsible for what I do to him.

“Then she went to the bathroom. Couple minutes passed, and I noticed Bridge was nowhere to be seen. Thought maybe she was on the dance floor, but I can't find her. Thought you might want to know.”

Shit. Surely she wouldn't say something to Kalli. I expected her to pout and be a bit cold, but we're still friends goddamn it. She wouldn't sabotage my relationship just because ours didn't work out. I catch Owen's worried expression, and I know we're both doubting just what our friend would and wouldn't do right now.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah,” Owen replies.

“Bathroom, you said?”

He nods. “That's what she told Rook anyway. Maybe she just wanted to get away from his hairy mug though. Could have been an excuse.”

I hand him a couple of bills and say, “Can you pay for the drinks I have coming? I'll be back.”

“Sure thing.”

I slip through the openings between people crowding the bar, trying to get a drink, and when I hit the stairs, I jog down. I head back to the half-hidden hallway that I know leads to the bathroom, and I'm a few steps away from the door when it flies open, and Kalli comes rushing out.

Her hair is a bit wild, and her pupils are dilated. Sweat dots her forehead, and when our gazes clash she slams to a halt. An expression passes across her face, fear I think, and when I reach out to touch her, she flinches away before I make contact.

“Kalliope,” I say. I don't know why I use her full name. It just comes out, but her expression closes off and her jaw clenches.