Page 103 of The Only Way Out Is Up

“This one goes here”—on her hip, the sheer fabric of the silver dress barely covering her skin—“and this one here”—clasping fingers—“and now you move like this. Back and forth. See? Not so hard.”

She starts to hum a slow, sad tune, and for a while we sway together. Bit by bit the distance between us shrinks until she’s pressed against me, her head resting on my shoulder. Her hum shivers in my collarbone.

“Where would I be now if you hadn’t decided to rob my house?” she says, so quietly it might be to herself.

I shrug, careful not to dislodge her.

“I know I wouldn’t have had the money to pay off the Clawmarks without you,” I say. “Stars know what Rekas would have done to us.”

“Fortuitous for both of us that you did rob me, then.”

“Extremely.”

She raises her head, her face only centimeters from mine.

I should kiss her. Should I kiss her? She’s a mess, makeup ruined, nose snotty, but she’s still so beautiful it makes my throat tight. Her body is pressed against mine, slim breasts flattened against my chest, our hips rubbing together. I want to grab her, hold her, dig my fingers into that mass of white hair.

But if that’s what she’s hoping for, wouldn’t she kiss me? It’s not as though she’s ever been shy about taking what she wants. And if she doesn’t want to, and I try, then—I don’t know. What?

The moment stretches, crystalline and fragile, until it breaks.

Ky steps back, fingers leaving mine. The absence of her body leaves a chill behind.

“’m drunk,” she mutters, rubbing her arm across her nose. “I’m going to bed.”

She turns away.

THIRTY-TWO

You ready for this?

[Admission: I am not.]

I blink. What?

[Further admission: last night while you were gone, I snuck out to a party with the other runics.]

I heave a sigh. Star.

[Even further admission: we imbibed mildly poisonous substances and made poor decisions, as is customary.]

All right, thanks very much for that.

[Query: did you and Ky engage in human mating behavior?]

A flush creeps into my cheeks. No. I mean, maybe. It’s hard to tell.

[Affirmation: I am thankful every day not to have glands.]

Star.

[Elaboration: or orifices that require rubbing against other orifices—]

I roll my eyes. You’re nervous, aren’t you?

[Denial: why would you say that? My confidence is complete.]

Me too.