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“Okay. He knows. I know. He knows I know he knows. I know he...” I shook my head. “You know what I mean, but we haven’t talked about it. We haven’t put it into words. We haven’tmadeit something.”
“Haven’t you?”
Had we? We’d talked about how much we hated each other. How well we did hate and want. It wasn’t the kind of something one often intentionally aspires to, but itwasstill something.
“Not... Not really.” I sighed. “Maybe.”
“You can admit you just don’t want it to end...” she said slowly, hesitatingly, like she wasn’t sure if giving me permission was what I wanted or needed.
I looked at her as I took that in. “Oh, God. I don’t, do I? I don’t want it to end.”
She shook her head. “And that’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. I’m supposed to marry Apollo.”
“As long as Apollo’s fucking around, you should be, too.”
It wasn’t just that. That was a good point and I agreed, but... Forgetting the fact I was meant to end up with Apollo and therefore any fucking around with anyone would have to end eventually, Valen was...well, Valen. I couldn’t afford to get attached to anyone, and I certainly didn’t want to already be attached to Valen-fucking-Kincaid. Problem was...
I nodded. “Yes, but if I don’t want it to end with Valen, then it’s beyond just fucking around. It’s most definitely already something. I haven’t just forgotten I hate him...”
“You like him.”
I frowned. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“I would.”
“Florence!”
“Okay. Fine. Let’s just say, you don’t hate him.”
“Ugh. That sounds worse!”
Florence laughed. “Okay. So let’s go to the party and we’ll put Valen behind you.”
“Yeah,” I scoffed, vividly remembering the previous night, where that’s exactly where he’d been. “If only.”
She snorted. “That’s the spirit!”
I threw my pen down and stood up. “Fine. Let’s go to the party.”
Sometimes, I felt like Florence just wanted an excuse to dress up. That she’d have been just as happy dolling ourselves up and then just sitting around watching rom-coms. And, why wouldn’t she? She was gorgeous first thing in the morning on the first day of her period. Of course she was. A self-confident, vibrant personality like hers was going to make her sexy. It didn’t matter she wielded her sensual curves and perfect bone structure to full effect, she was also a gorgeous human on the inside.
We paused at the door to the common room, hand in hand. The party was in full swing. At least, what counted for full swing for one of these get togethers. There were Saintlings on each door to keep out the rabble and the riffraff – both staff and student. This was an exclusive gathering, reserved only for final year Saints. And Florence.
One of the Saintlings at the door looked Florence over and I knew what he was thinking. I shook my head at him.
“She’s with me,” I told him.
He visibly gulped. “I...I should check with Gage...”
I shook my head again. “You want me to tell your God thatyoudenied his princess’ wish?”
Another visible gulp, and his little Saintling friend whispered, “Dude! That’s Harlow Vanguard!”
They did look young. Probably Year Sevens. It wasn’t their fault they didn’t know who I was yet. I knew from my own introduction to Saint-dom that there was no orientation. You learned on the job or you got booted.
The first Saintling looked me over. “Isn’t she one of the Magdalens?”
