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“Is this your idea of customer service?” I deadpanned.

“I’m just sayin’.” He shot me a wide grin, then curiously asked, “Who was in there with you?”

“None of your fucking business.”

“Are you both coming back?” he asked eagerly.

My mood instantly blackened. “No.”

He pouted. “Why not?”

“Because we’re not,” I snapped. “Are we done here?”

The incubus sighed and turned to his monitor. “Yeah, I guess. Thanks for staying at the Elfknot Motel.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Frank and Beans Support Group

Vince

Work was unbearable, and I didn’t even really know why.

It wasn’t because I was so exhausted that I was nearly delirious. It wasn’t because I couldn’t do a single sit-up during my workout, my stomach muscles too sore from fucking Crossbody like an animal all night.

We didn’t speak. We didn’t look each other in the eyes. I looked at him, though. I watched him worriedly when I first saw him in the backstage area, wanting to make sure he was okay.

To anyone but me, he appeared completely fine. Normal. But I could see the slight stiffness in his legs. I noticed the wince he tried to hide when he carefully perched on the end of the couch—something he hardly ever did—to eat. And he didn’t go on the treadmill at all, which relieved me.

He looked as tired as I felt, but there was this subtle air of serenity around him all day. He seemed more relaxed than he’d ever been at work before. He actually smiled at some of the others. I heard him chuckle while talking to Carl.

And there was something wrong with me, because a weak hint of jealousy had curled through my gut. He never smiled at me, not really. He’d never laughed—a real, genuine laugh—while talking to me.

Which I shouldn’t have fucking cared about. I’d never cared about it before. I’d had absolutely no interest in making Crossbody smile or laugh. I’d had no interest in talking to him or interacting with him in any way.

The next day, I was feeling a little more settled after getting some sleep. More normal. We didn’t speak again, at all. A few times I could’ve sworn I felt his eyes on me, but when I glanced up he was never looking in my direction.

He had his match with Carl that night, and I watched from the backstage area, stiff and tense with my arms crossed as I stared down into the arena. But he seemed fine, on good form. There was no hesitancy or stiffness that would signal he was still sore from our night. I had my match with Heidi on Friday, so that mostly distracted me for the bulk of the day, but by Saturday I was growing tense, and I couldn’t even pinpoint exactly why.

My mood gradually grew darker and darker over the course of the weekend. I was irritable, on edge. I slept badly, I was restless all the time, and the longer Crossbody went without so much as looking in my direction, the angrier I got.

Which wasn’t fair, I knew. It wasn’t fair at all. I’d been the one to repeatedly state that last Tuesday at the motel was a one-time thing, never to happen again. He was just doing what we’d agreed. I shouldn’t have wanted him to look at me. I shouldn’t have wanted to talk to him.

I definitely shouldn’t have wanted to fuck him again.

It definitely shouldn’t have been all I could think about.

By Monday, I was so tense it felt like I was about to snap. Dan was wary when he approached me in the backstage area and quietly asked whether I’d be attending Holt’s support group for victims of Frank and Beans. I nodded absently, not giving it much thought, and followed him across the room, trying not to stare as we passed Crossbody jogging on the treadmill.

As Dan pushed open the door leading down to the arena, I couldn’t stop myself glancing back, just in time to see Crossbody’s golden ponytail swish through the air as he whipped his head back to face the wall.

He’d looked at me too.

I almost stopped and asked if he was coming down to the arena, but the words got clogged in my throat. I followed Dan without saying anything.

“Do you think we should tell everyone?” he asked me in a hoarse murmur as we walked down the metal staircase.

“Tell them what?” I muttered back woodenly, still preoccupied by Crossbody.