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He wasn’t even sure why he’d said that.
“We’re going to get one more drink and then we’re going to walk to Hollis’s house,” she was saying.
“It’s not even 8:00,” he said.
“For whatever reason, no one comes out in Shepherdstown on Friday nights,” she said. “So, by 8:00, this place will be dead. At which point, we’ll leave.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter. We’re not talking to anyone else anyway.”
“That’s because we’re handcuffed together,” she said.
“See, I’m getting this thing from you, like you’re constantly irritated with me.”
“No!” She said it way too forcefully.
He pressed his lips together.
She fiddled with the cuff on her wrist. “I’m irritated because we’re cuffed together.” A pause. “That’s all.”
“Well, so am I,” he said.
“Fine, so we’re not getting another drink. Let’s just go to Hollis’s house now,” she said.
“You don’t have his phone number, but you’ve been to his house.”
“I’ve never been there. I just know where he lives.”
He raised his eyebrows. “That doesn’t even make any sense. How could you know if you haven’t been there?”
“Well, I’ve walked by the place,” she said. “He owns this big house on Union Alley. It’s gorgeous. And it’s a small town, so people just know this kind of stuff.”
He guessed that did make sense. “Okay, well, then let’s finish our drinks and then—” He broke off as he saw that Zebedee Fuller was coming in from the garden behind the bar, stripping off a pair of gloves. He was heading directly for them. The garden area was popular in the spring and summer, but people still went out there in the winter, notably to smoke—either cigarettes or other things, which were still in various stages of legality in West Virginia.
Essence turned around, noticing Decker’s expression, and the fact he’d stopped talking. She saw Zebedee and turned back around, making a face at Decker.
“I’ll get rid of him,” he said in a low voice, getting up from the table. Except, he was handcuffed to her, so he couldn’t really do anything.
And Zebedee noticed the handcuffs. “What the fuck?” he said, shoving his gloves into his pockets. He was an elf. He had blueish tinted skin, pointed ears, and the kind of too-pretty-for-a-man features that made Decker both jealous and angry in equal measure. He hated guys like Zebedee.
When Zebedee and Essence had been dating, Decker had barely tolerated him. He had practically thrown a party when they’d finally broken up, and not just because he’d already been obsessed with her at that point.
“They’re magical,” said Essence. “We can’t get them off.”
Zebedee yanked out a chair and sat down. “I didn’t realize you guys were—but, oh, I should have, yeah.” He nodded at them both. “Now, this makes so much sense. All of that was thick, thick sexual tension.”
“We’re not together,” said Essence.
“We handcuffed ourselves together as an elaborate trust-building exercise,” said Decker dryly.
“Really?” said Zebedee.
“Yup,” said Essence, glaring at Zebedee. “It’s all the rage. I saw a reel about it on Instagram and everyone’s doing it. You handcuff yourself to someone and then you experience vast amounts of personal growth. It’s amazing.”
Zebedee cleared his throat. “You’re being sarcastic.”
Essence rolled her eyes. “No one invited you to sit down.”
“Excuse me,” said Zebedee, not making a move to get up. “You know, I keep getting the impression I’m the only one capable of being mature now that we decided not to see each other anymore.”
