And thus concludes the Kirin-Weber-Smiling portion of the day. Thanks for stopping by!
Twenty-Three
KIRIN
Stevie’s megawatt smile has the power to brighten the darkest days, but the effect is somewhat dimmed by the half-naked man strutting around behind her.
I catch his eye, glaring a few daggers for good measure, but the bastard only shrugs, his smirk as obvious as his hard-on.
“Is your shower out of order?” I ask.
“No idea. I haven’t been home all night. But you’re welcome to go downstairs and check it out if you’re concerned.”
“I’m good. Thanks.” I close my eyes, trying to regroup. I know they’ve got something going—the chemistry between them has always been combustible. I sensed it the first time I introduced them outside Iron and Bone on Stevie’s first day on campus.
Can’t say I didn’t see this coming.
I just wish I didn’t have to see it at all.
Yet now I’ve got an eyeful, my imagination shading in every last detail of what must’ve happened between the time they left the Brotherhood meeting last night and thissupremelyannoying moment right here.
Fuck.
I force down the bitterness and open my eyes, plastering my smile back in place. No matter how much it burns, I can’t be pissed at Baz. For all his ridiculous peacocking, I know he truly cares about her. We all do. And even if it’s not love right now—even if itnevergets that far between them—I’ve got no right to complain. I’m the asshole who walked away from her. The one who kissed her in every possible way, then ran, ignoring her when she needed me most, hoping the time and the distance would cool my feelings and keep her safe.
Both of those hopes died the night we found her tied to a tree, tortured at the hands of a madman. I could no more keep her safe than I could turn off my feelings for her. But now, if she doesn’t want anything to do with me beyond the prophecy and air magick work we’re tasked with, I’ve got no one to blame but myself.
“Sorry, Stevie,” I say, doing my best to keep my feelings on lockdown, even as the coffee cups in my hand begin to tremble. “I didn’t know you were busy today.”
“I’m not,” she says with another smile, right at the same time Baz says, “She’sextremelybusy.”
Stevie rolls her pretty blue eyes and laughs, a sound that almost makes up for the irritating presence of half-naked Baz.
Almost.
“Put on some clothes, heathen,” she tells him, but the sparkle in her eyes tells me she doesn’t find his presence irritating in the slightest. Then, turning back to me as if this whole crazy moment is no big deal, she nods at the to-go cups in my hands and says, “Pleasetell me those are vanilla cinnamon lattes, and please tell me one of them is for me.”
“Keep smiling at me like that, and you can have both of them.”
“Okay, I’ll keep smiling, but lucky for you, I’m in a sharing mood.”
The air in the room is lighter with Baz out of sight, and I can’t help but return Stevie’s smile. We sit at the kitchen counter and enjoy our lattes and banana chocolate chip muffins, a few moments of bliss before Baz is back to kill the buzz.
“Are you actually going to class?” she asks him.
“Figured I’d give it a shot,” he says. “I heard you like smart guys.” He grabs his wallet and phone from the countertop, right next to her phone. The one shedidn’tuse to text me that she’d be late today, because she was too busy with—
I grab my latte, take another sip, will the anger to recede.
Stevie rises from the counter and walks Baz to the door, even though it’s just a few feet away and he could certainly find the way himself.
I try to focus on the pattern in the granite countertop, looking for all the variations in the rock, but it’s impossible not to feel their ebullient, post-sex giddiness emanating across the room.
“What, no kiss goodbye?” The cretin asks her, still lingering in the doorway.
“How about an ass-kicking goodbye?” I grumble.
“Depends on who's doing the kicking,” he shoots back, “and whether she’s naked or not.”
