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I grabbed my wallet and keys off of the counter and slid them into my pockets. “And that’s my cue to leave.”
From the door, I heard Asher ask, “What’s his deal?”
Lucy giggled. “He’s in looooooove.”
She was joking and so far off, but it didn’t change the fact that Ariana De Luca had caught my attention.
I wasn’t in love with her.
I wasn’t even in like.
But she intrigued me, and that was more than anyone had done since Elsa.
But if it was just intrigue, why did I feel so fucked?
As soon as we entered L’Oscuritá’s bar, Tessie ran straight to Ariana and wrapped her arms around her legs.
The buckets of ice in her hands wobbled while she tried to steady herself from the impact of Tessie’s body.
Her thin arms flexed when she hauled the buckets onto the counter and returned Tessie’s hug.
“How are you, Tessie?” She straightened her back, allowing a slight wince to escape before that perky, just-for-Tessie smile transformed her face into the centerfold of my fantasy Playboy spread. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day.”
“Really?”
“Of course.”
I approached them, needing to stop the love fest. Tessie didn’t need someone in her life who would leave.
Ariana squinted at me when I was half a foot away. “No one has ever quite looked at me like you do.”
“And how is that?”
She glanced down at Tessie before her eyes met mine and her voice lowered. “Like you’re not sure whether you’d like to kill me or kiss me.”
Our eyes held, and I didn’t know if mine were the capturers or the captives.
Tessie jumped up and down, breaking our trance. “Kiss! Kiss!”
Fuck my life, I needed space. Distance from this… this… this what?
What was she?
Whatever she was, it was messing with my fucking head.
Tessie. Everett. I had two priorities. Just two, and I couldn’t focus on them with her around.
I hardened my stare, trying to convey to Ariana with my eyes that I’d rather kill her. “There’s a customer at the bar, and the ice is melting.”
She took a few steps back, wincing with each movement. “Hatred paralyzes life.”
Love releases it.
She wasn’t talking about us.
She was talking about me. As if she knew me.
Was I paralyzed? I sure as hell felt stuck. But her voice had been a whisper, almost as if she’d been talking to herself.
