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She looks from one of us to the next, and suddenly it feels more like a competition than it ever has. What if one of them thinks strategically and picks Leo, or Jacob, or Wyatt? What if these Angels taketheirchoices away, like mine have been, and mirror themselves with someone they want but it isn’t reciprocated, or worse, that they have no interest in?
Not that Nick has no interest in me, he’s made it more than clear he does. And there’s chemistry there, no matter how much I’d like to deny it. I have a physical reaction when he walks in a room—there’s sure as hell something between us.
“Right, someone had better find me a pen,” Tamsin declares, making me jump and pulling me out of my thoughts. “I know exactly who I want to be mirrored with.”
“Take your time,” Liselle repeats. “And be sure. Because once you’re linked, there’s no way back. Not everyone in that house will make it through to the end, so this is not something to jump into without consideration, okay?”
“Great,” Penelope says with a sigh. “Pick the right guy, get to the end, dream big. Got it.”
“Something like that,” Liselle replies with a grin. “Oh, and have fun!”
She’s up and out before the wine glasses have been topped up, her usual security following dutifully behind her without so much as a word.
“Tequila?” Aimee asks as the silence stretches out, the moment turning awkward. “You can celebrate, or commiserate, with tequila. It’s the perfect drink.”
“I’m in,” I agree, and so does everyone else.
It might only be the middle of the afternoon, but this has been the longest day of my entire life. I’m more than ready for something that will end all the chaos rushing around my brain.
Stephanie lines shot glasses up on the table as Aimee thunders down the stairs, apparently grabbing a secret bottle from her room before pouring and handing them out.
“Toast?” Penelope asks.
“I’m not sure there’s anything we can all really get behind,” I reply, huffing out a laugh.
“How about, to us?” Stephanie offers. “Six women, guessing our way through this shit show and hoping for the best.”
“To us,” Tamsin agrees, raising her glass.
We all toast and drink, slamming the glasses back onto the table in a line. Two more go down quickly, and the stress of the day finally feels like it’s sliding off my shoulders.
“What a fucking day.”
“Hey, I’m excited,” Tamsin says, filling up the glasses again. “You should be flattered.”
She doesn’t know all the details, and I guess it’ll have to stay that way for now.
“Sure. I should probably make a start on this assignment.” I sigh. She doesn’t get it.
Looking around, I’m grateful the onslaught of questions hasn’t materialised yet. I know they have questions. Lots of questions. And yet, as I slink off into the bedroom, the bombardment never comes.
Tamsin, however, slides in behind me, and I know she’s not going to take no for an answer.
“I came to your party like we agreed, and now I have work to do,” I say, attempting to cut her off at the pass.
I have less than no motivation to get this work started, never mind finished, but I have to do something other than sit here and stew the mess my life has become.
“So, I got the low-down from Oliver,” she says quietly, dropping onto the end of my bed as I prop myself up against the headboard.
It feels like a lifetime since I curled up in this bed, feeling as if I was dying whilst attempting to put the pieces of my memory back together. It’s hard to imagine it was nothing more than a few hours ago.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“Yes. No. I honestly have no idea,” I admit. “It’s been… a day.”
“I can imagine.”
No, she can’t.
