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“Yeah, and she’s Astrid’s best friend, so she called Astrid. She and I were thinking about coming out tonight, which is why we were at my place at all, because usually, we just stay at Astrid’s. But then, we were having drinks and chatting and, uh, anyway, we never made it out, and now I’m too buzzed to drive, so…” Valdemar drank more of his beer. “I’m going to go talk to the Gen Z elf you violated.”
“Don’t.” Niles shook his head. “Anyway, I don’t think she’s an elf.”
“She looks like an elf.”
“She’s got, uh, there’s something on her back…” Niles had seen the movement under her shirt below her shoulder blades, and it had been fiercely erotic. It had probably tipped him over the edge, actually.
“Like wings?” Valdemar grinned. “Wings, for serious? You are such a lucky fuckwad, you know that?”
“Lucky? How am I lucky? I’m going to lose my job.”
Valdemar laughed. “No, you’re right. You’re right. I’m glad it’s you and not me.”
“Because you would never do that. Because you’ve never have random sex in your life. Because you are boring and a boy scout and happy and secure and not a total fuckup like I am.”
But Valdemar wasn’t looking at him anymore, but instead was looking over Niles’s head.
Niles sighed. “She’s behind me, isn’t she?”
Valdemar nodded. “She’s behind you.”
Niles twisted in the chair.
She was standing there, wearing that tiny scrap of clothing that shouldn’t even be called a skirt, and she had both of her hands on her beer bottle, and she was biting down hard on her lower lip. “Felix went to the Dev, and I… I don’t know why I…”
“I need another drink,” said Valdemar and fled the scene, leaving them alone.
Niles pushed up to a standing height. “Hey.”
“Hey,” she said.
“You, um, you doing all right?”
“It’s not midnight. You didn’t… you were supposed to… who’s watching the counter?”
“Yeah, I just…” He ran a hand through his hair.
“What? What did you do? Run off and brag to Dr. Thalt that you—”
“Brag?Dr.Thalt?” He collapsed into the chair again. “Of course you call Valdi that because you go to the college, and he’s a professor, and sacredteachings.”
She was shivering. “You were supposed to cover the counter—”
“I closed everything down.” He eyed her. “Are you cold or is that a trauma response?” He was tugging his scarf off. It was a big, long, green thing, but it was made of thin material, so he didn’t know if it would really help her much. He held it out to her.
“I… cold.” She snatched it from him and sat down, wrapping it around her bare legs as she pulled them up onto the chair. She perched there, hugging her knees to her chest, and he was struck by how small she was. Small and graceful and so fucking pretty, and he hated himself for doing the wrong thing, for always doing the wrong thing, for— “Trauma response?”
“I didn’t brag. I just feel like hell about it.”
“I thought youlikedit.”
“I did.” He raised and lowered his bare shoulders. “But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t totally fucked up of me to have done.”
“You going to close the shop tomorrow too?”
“No,” he said. “I mean… once this gets out, I figure Will’ll fire me and—”
“How will it get out?”
