Salvatore leans against the back of the sofa in a typical nonchalant pose, but his gaze hasn’t left me for an instant. “What do you want to do next, a chroí?”
The pressure of the moment rises up over me, constricting my lungs. My matches have come together—but I could still screw this up. What if I suggest the wrong thing, or don’t show enough affection, or?—
I inhale deeply and grasp onto the first low-key idea that pops into my head. “Do you like that show Wicked Courage here? That was always fun to watch. And we could dig into the snacks…”
Salvatore claps his hands. “Sounds good to me. Let’s find it!”
As Cole flips through the on-demand options with Salvatore advising, Byron and Asher congregate around the kitchenette’s small island with me.
Byron’s eyebrows lift slightly as he takes in the spread of bags and cartons. “Professor Raith was ready to feed the whole school.”
“This way Elodie can have whatever she’s in the mood for.” Asher rests a tentative hand against the small of my back. “What do you think, Lo?”
At the sound of the familiar nickname, my heart flips over. It’s the first time he’s used it in this world. And it came out totally unprompted.
He obviously has no idea how momentous it would feel to me. I swallow down the emotion that’s filled my throat and paw through the array of packages.
A few glances at the nutritional information tell me Cole did his job well here too. It’s not exactly health food, but none of the options are going to make me fear inflicting a high cholesterol problem on someone just from binging tonight.
Byron watches with a thoughtful expression. “You worry a lot about your health because of your glim. That’s why you’re careful about what you eat?”
I smile tightly. “If I’m not consciously controlling the magic, it’ll restore my body to optimal condition whenever it can… by leeching off whoever’s around me. It’s easier… safer… to try to stay in optimal condition to begin with so there’s nothing to ‘heal.’”
Asher’s brow creases. “Thinking about that all the time must be stressful.”
I shrug. “I’m used to it now. It is what it is.”
And I’ve already tried every possible strategy I found to stifle my glim, in vain.
Shaking off that depressing thought, I grab a bag of kettle corn that calls to me and sink onto the middle of the sofa. Salvatore glances over just as Byron and Asher claim the spots on either side of me.
The mafia heir narrows his eyes at them, but amusement touches his lips. “I’m going to sit with her one way or the other.” He drops down on the floor between my legs and Byron’s, tucking his arm around my calves.
Byron gives him a disgruntled look that holds a little amusement of his own and shifts so his shoulder rests against mine.
As the show starts playing, I assume Cole will take the armchair next to the sofa. Instead, he comes around behind us and grazes his fingers over my hair in a light caress.
A tingle races over my scalp at the familiar sensation. The other Cole often showed his affection the same way. But it means even more in this context.
This Cole wants to be absolutely clear that he’s committed to me just as much as the other guys are. The Cole I knew before was barely willing to talk about our bond, let alone embrace it, for ages after our match sparked.
As I settle into the sofa’s comfy cushions, a sense of peace wells up inside me like nothing I can remember feeling before. Like maybe everything could be okay in spite of the chaos we’ve been facing.
Maybe we could all be happy—not just them but me too.
The imagined voices in my head remain silent, but suddenly I don’t feel I’m missing anything. I have my matches right here.
Like I said to Cole, this is the first time I’ve been honest with them—mostly, at least. Does that mean these bonds are more meant to be than my first union?
I don’t know, but I’m going to enjoy our newfound cohesion as much as I can.
As the game show competitors get started on the first of the goofy but thrilling challenges, I toss perfectly salty-sweet popcorn into my mouth and laugh alongside the guys around me. We shout out encouragement and warnings and wince when one contestant takes a tumble. I relax even more into the warmth of the sofa and my companions.
Once a couple of episodes have wrapped up with the weakest contestants eliminated, Byron grabs the remote. “How about a change of pace?”
He flicks through the offerings before settling on a title I don’t recognize, with a hopeful gaze over at me. “You enjoy more scenic kinds of impressive visuals too, I think?”
The images that form on the screen aren’t a movie in the sense I’m used to, but a montage in a striking painterly animation that flows from one moment to the next alongside lilting music. Maybe there’s a story to the figures and panoramas passing by, but the art is gorgeous enough thatI’m content to simply let it wash over me rather than searching for deeper meaning.
