“No, kissing hot boys who are into you is not that complicated,” she muses wryly. “Falling in love with a ghost and bringing him back to life by shoving his spirit into a different hot boy’s body? Now that’s complicated.”
“Felix is my friend, and he was going to blink out of existence,” I tell her, even though she knows this from the first time I told her. “The fact that I have feelings for him has nothing to do with it.”
Her grin grows to salacious levels. “You had a sex dream where you made out with him while Nolan felt you up and the rest of your non-boyfriends watched.”
“IknewI shouldn’t have told you about that,” I grumble.
She places her hand on her chest in faux offense. “I’m your bestie. Of course you must tell me all your orgy-based dreams, especially when they involve people I know and will forever look at differently.”
“Sex dream or not, I would have done it because…” My words come out quiet, my humor evaporating under the emotions crawling up my throat. “Because he deserves to live. He’s too good a person not to exist anymore.”
Hearing the emotion in my voice, Mei hops off the bench and grabs a bucket from underneath it, flips it over next to me, and sits down. Her gaze says so much as she looks up at me—empathy, compassion, sadness, and a dash of pity.
“You’re right. Felix was—is one of the good ones,” she agrees, her lips stretched thin.
“But?” I prompt, because it’s already hanging in the air. Or maybe that’s just my guilt talking.
“I don’t know.” She shakes her head, her elbows braced on her knees. “The law of witches says what you did was wrong, but I’m not you. I don’t have your kind of power, so I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same thing. Love makes you do crazy things, ya know?”
“Truer words have never been spoken,” I grumble, petting Mr. Mischief a little too aggressively. As if he can sense my anxiety, he stops playing with the dancing, glowing light and nuzzles the side of my neck. His purr is a low gravelly sound that reminds me of Donovan’s voice when he first wakes up. My chest grows tight thinking of D and the weird flux we exist in.
I know he likes me. He said he might even love me… well, enough not to want to fight to the death with Connor. Does that mean we’re dating? D said not to get worked up over labels, which at the time was helpful because I was worried about Felix, but now it’s confusing.
“Callie…”
Donovan seems to have a friends with benefits kind of thing with Nolan. Does he want the same with me? Do I want that? I know I love him. Is that enough? I also love the other guys, so maybe it’s too much to ask to be more than this nebulous, we make out sometimes kind of relationship?
“Caaalllie…”
And what about Connor? He made me his mate without my permission, which I’m still super mad about, but I also love him. He definitely loves me, and I know it’s hard on him to feel my love for the others. A smart person would focus on the guy who has made his feelings bluntly obvious and not pine over her other guy friends that she sometimes makes out with.
“You know, next weekend, I’m thinking of dancing naked in the moonlight while chanting ‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.’ Wanna come?”
“What?” I exclaim, blinking up at Mei’s bemused expression.
“Welcome back,” she replies wryly, her feet bouncing on the concrete floor. “Thank you for traveling Air Mei. We know you have many options where you can space out while your best friend talks to you, so thank you for choosing us.”
“Sorry.” I sigh, standing up to pace around the greenhouse. My arms are growing tired under Mr. Mischief’s weight, but I still feel uneasy putting him down. “Talking about love got me thinking…”
“About your guys and how you want to smooch their faces off?” she finishes with a grin. Her ability to bounce from serious to silly is practically an art form.
“I don’t know what to do,” I whine, relieved to switch back to talking about boy troubles instead of how I’m a murderer and body snatcher with godlike powers.
Her gaze follows me as I do a lap around the small greenhouse. “Do you want a fun Mei response where I tease you about how having several attractive guys who like you isn’t a problem, or a serious Mei response where we try to untangle thetelenovelathat is your life?”
“You’re giving me a choicenowwhen my current problem is too many choices?” I complain.
Saving me from having to make a decision, Mr. Mischief rolls and leaps from my arms, luckily not scratching me in the process, and makes a hasty line straight for the door. He makes a loud yowling sound, clearly done with being trapped inside.
Sighing, I walk over to release him, warning, “If you get into a fight with Rand, I’m not going to get in the way of his very large, very sharp teeth and your very squishy body.”
Mr. Mischief gives me an indignant glare, as if he really can understand me, and makes a throaty hiss that sends shivers down my spine.
“You don’t need to get huffy. I’m not saying you won’t get in some good swipes first,” I mutter, because I’ve been talking to too many shifters and, apparently, can’t tell the difference between animals and people that can look like animals anymore.
“Smaller doesn’t mean weaker,” Mei adds in the cat’s defense. “I mean, just look at you.”
“She says it like she isn’t just as short as I am,” I counter while sliding the door open for the cat.
