Page 9 of The Fake Divination Offense
“Can I walk you out?” Alertness sharpens my tone. “Or we really could call an adventure party, just in case.”
Alexo shakes his head. “No. I’ll be fine. I—I should leave.”
I don’t like the idea of him going out alone with that guy still gods know where. “Please let me walk you to your car. Or the bus stop.”
His smile. Gods, let it be what kills me.
“You’re surprising, Orok Monroe,” he tells me. And before I can figure out how to respond tothat, he lifts up onto his toes, balances with a hand in the center of my chest, and motions for me to come the rest of the way down.
I comply, and he presses a kiss to my cheek.
His lips are cloud soft, barely making a brush of contact, but their warmth plunges through me in gentle whorls and I lean into it, chasing that sensation as he lowers back down.
“Thank you,” he says again, and I think he means that he’s accepted my offer, but he adds, “I can take care of myself. I promise.”
My mind is still fuzzy from his lips on my skin, from the pressure of his hand on my chest, so he gets a few feet toward the door before I turn after him.
Am I going to ask for his number? I don’tdothat. No numbers. No commitments. Rarely last names, even—and this is exactly why.
Because I can already feel that overpowering possessiveness scratching away at my self-control. The need to follow him, make sure he not only gets home, but that wherever he lives is in a safe location, and then check with the local adventure parties to update them on that guy who threatened him. And before I can stop it, I’ll be consumed in him, pouring all my time and energy andneedinto him.
I’ve fixated on things ever since I was a kid; it’s why I was such a good little Urzoth follower. I obsessed over the rules that the church passed down and made every aspect of them my entire personality.
I did it with Seb, too. It took me years to break my dependencyon him, and our relationship wasn’t even sexual; he became such a crucial part of my life that I ended up getting two full degrees I didn’t want or need to stay with him.
It’s usually easy to keep my walls up. I’m so obnoxiously aware of how detrimental it is for me to make attachments that I keep everything locked in tidy little compartments.
Marlow and Darian: work friends.
Seb: brother.
Thio: Seb’s.
Hookups: temporary.
So what is this?DidAlexo cast some kind of spell?
Seb is half listening to Darian perform, half watching me.
“Enchantment spells?” I ask.
Seb shakes his head. “Only the one you’re wearing.” He points under his own face, where the words are subtitled in an arcane glow. Marlow’s earring.
I turn, and Alexo’s reached the door.
He glances back. I don’t try to cover that I’m staring right at him.
He should leave. On his own. I don’t need to follow him, don’t need to pursue this desperation. I have way too many life shake-ups plaguing me right now. I can’t risk falling into dangerous habits when I’m vulnerable.
Let him leave.
Alexo pushes out into the night.
I dive forward, using every ounce of rawball training to deftly weave through the crowded bar until I reach the door, throw it open, and burst out onto the sidewalk.
The night’s warm in late summer. A few people walk by, making for one of the many bars or restaurants that pack this street. My head swivels left, right—
He’s standing at the bus stop a few yards down, arms wrapped around himself, chin tucked low. Given the fact that the guy who attacked him could be anywhere, he should be doing a better job of keeping watch. But there are other people at the stop with him, safety in numbers and such.
