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“Fabulous old houses do it for me, too.”
“Same. They make me all tingly.” Miri chuckles as we walk into the game room.
“Are you bragging about Davis again?” Archer jokes from where he’s bent over the pool table lining up a shot. My heart drops into my shoes and I get a little light-headed. I know it’s idiotic. I knew he’d be here, but seeing him in person is completely different from rationalizing it in my head. I want to cry or throw up. Maybe both?
He’s ditched the suit for the night, dressed casually in jeans and a dark gray t-shirt. Tattoos decorate his arms, from his wrists to where they disappear under his sleeve. The edges of some of his ink peek out the collar of his shirt, just enough to tantalize with the promise of what’s hiding underneath the cover of his clothing. He doesn’t normally show off this much skin, only when it’s just us, his oldest friends. I’m pretty damn irritated that every time we were fooling around, it was mostly fully clothed. How in the hell did that happen?
“No, Mr. Nosy, I’m talking about old houses, not Davis,” Miri says as she walks over to a small bar in the corner.
Archer’s eyes flit over to me, and a smile tinged with sadness momentarily lifts his lips. He looks away with no other acknowledgement and it kills me. I have to look down at my chest to make sure there isn’t a giant gaping hole there because it sure as hell feels like someone jammed their fist in and ripped out my heart, video game style.
“Drinks! What’s your poison?” Miri calls out from her spot behind the bar, holding up a bottle of vodka and one of those little drink umbrellas. Needing to put a little distance between me and Archer, I wander over to her. Rhys joins Archer and Davis at the pool table, and I keep my eyes off of them.
Ruby’s sitting on a barstool in front of Miri, rifling through a bowl of mixed nuts and picking out all the cashews. Ezra’s splayed out on the couch, looking like his dick’s so big it’s impossible not to have his legs spread wide. I roll my eyes. Fucking boys.
“Should I be worried that there is actual poison back there? I mean, you are a certified alchemist now, right?” I peer over the top of the bar as if I'll find ingredients for a potion back there. I do my best to act nonchalant, and not as if I stomped all over my heart with every step I just took away from Archer.
“Hell, I know you’re joking.” Miri starts mixing me a drink that looks to be ninety percent alcohol and ten percent juice. I wonder if she’s already had a few of those herself. “But, holy hell, I made a batch of my healthy hair shampoo the other day and look at this shit.”
Miri pulls her hair out of the messy bun on top of her head. Her chocolate brown strands tumble down her back to the very top of her butt. It’s at least a foot longer than the last time I saw her.
“Holy shit.” Ruby chokes on her cashew. I slap her on the back a few times until she catches her breath.
“I know, right? Obviously, we knew our magic was juiced up after Davis and I bonded, but I wasn’t anticipating this. I’ve had to start being hyper focused when I make all the stuff for the store. If I let my mind wander, even a little, then people are going to start glowing or something.”
I lean against the bar beside Ruby. “What about Davis? Has he had any power surges or anything?”
Miri chuckles and steals a glance at the guys, who aren’t paying any attention to us. At least that’s how it looks. All the hairs on the back of my neck are standing straight up, and I can feel the weight of eyes on me. When I sneak a peek over at Archer, he’s looking everywhere but at me.
“It started raining in our bedroom the other night.”
I turn back to Miri in surprise and Ruby snorts. “Let me guess what you guys were doing,” she says, pushing the bowl of nuts away now that she’s eaten all the good stuff out of it.
“Uh, yeah.” A wide grin lights up her face. “Let’s just say there was jean jamming without the jeans happening, and all of a sudden we were soaked.”
Ruby and I both burst out laughing at that declaration. Miri slaps a palm to her forehead and then starts chuckling, too. It feels good to laugh. I can almost believe I’m not dying inside, and I’m just fine. I’m not, but no one else needs to know that.
“Anyway…” Miri drags out the word as soon as she catches her breath. “Who cuts hair on this island?”
Everyone has way too many drinks. We play a few games of pool, and I laugh a lot, but most of it is forced. No matter what I’m doing, wherever I’m at in the room, I’m always aware of Archer. He and I do this weird dance all night, where I pretend I’m not moving as soon as he gets too close. My smiles are close-lipped and tense. Archer tries to catch my eye more than once, but my gaze skitters away each time because I’m a coward.
I drift from the bar over to the couch, listening to Ezra and Ruby argue about something ridiculous. The two of them look like they raided their parent’s closets for their outfits. Ezra is wearing a pair of burgundy corduroy pants that could be women’s pants, they're so damn tight. To top it off, he has on a patterned sweater that’s been plucked straight from the eighties. He should look like an idiot, but he pulls it off and makes it look good. It doesn’t hurt that he’s incredibly good looking. He knows it too. I think that’s part of why Ruby likes to hassle him.
Her outfit is just as interesting tonight. Her jeans have so many holes in them I’m amazed she could get them on without totally ripping the legs out. Although, the gap in the left knee is huge, so there’s a good chance she did. There’s an oversized plaid scarf tied around her neck and she’s wearing a vintage t-shirt from the movie Rad. Black and red jelly bracelets are stacked up one arm and her hair is off her face in two French braids.
“There is no way you think mustaches are hot.” Ezra rolls his eyes at Ruby and skims a hand over his closely shorn hair. He looks pissed off by the entire conversation. Or possibly how long it's been going on. They’ve been arguing for at least fifteen minutes. About mustaches.
“Pretty sure you don’t know a damn thing about what I think is hot.” Ruby is glaring at Ezra like she’s about to shove his face in the couch cushions.
“Oh, please, name one guy with a mustache that you think is hot.”
Ruby holds up her hand and ticks off names one by one. “Sam Elliot, Nick Offerman, Doc Holliday in Tombstone.”
Ezra scoffs and throws her a dubious look, pushing her fingers down like they’re offensive. “They are all like, three times your age. Do you have some sort of a daddy fetish?”
“Don’t you worry about that. Also, don’t you dare kink shame me. Thirdly, I wouldn’t say no to a free mustache ride. Nothing like a little big mustache energy.”
Ezra growls, and the sound is surprisingly animalistic. Like a wild dog ready to pounce on its prey. I shake my head and turn away from the two of them, unable to handle any more of their bickering.
