Page 100 of The Fake Divination Offense
But I do.
Because that image?Uncle Orok. Fuck, Iwantthat.
Seb bursts out laughing, and even Thio snort-chuckles.
I leave them to their warding and head down the hall to my room.
Inside, the curtains are still wide, showing the city-washed night sky; not a star in sight, but plenty of speckled building lights, their own sort of cosmos.
A lump under my blankets is motionless.
I wash up in the bathroom and change into sleep pants before plodding quietly to the bed. The huge mattress dips as I climb in, blankets shifting around the lump to peel back and reveal Bel, wrapped in another of my too-big shirts.
He peeks up at me. His gaze holds questions, eyes reflecting the city lights, but we’ve talked enough today.Doneenough today.
“I told you Seb would like you,” I whisper down to him. “Thio, too.”
The edge of Bel’s mouth flickers. “The feeling’s mutual. For both of them.”
I pull him against me and he immediately complies, adjusting until he’s burrowed under my arm, his head on my chest.
“Thank you,” he whispers. It’s massive, encompassing how very much this day has held.
The kiss I leave on his curls has him shivering and moving even closer.
“Sleep,” I tell him, and he obeys.
I wake up the next morning to find Bel in his demon form on a barstool at my kitchen island, helping Thio chop vegetables for omelets and laughing with Seb, Nick presumably curled in Bel’s lap, if the small floating bowler hat is anything to go by.
The simple domesticity of this scene hits me with a sudden certainty: he’s worth it.
All the hookups Seb talked about me having, the years of pushing people away because, yeah, I was terrified falling for anyone would hurt me again—all of that was worth it. Bel was worth the wait, but he’s also worth theweight, the pressure of knowing this won’t be easy, from the dangers stalking him to my own baggage.
Bel’s smiling eyes lock on me in the hallway, and he lights up even more.
I smile back.
Chapter Thirteen
That duffel bag on my bed was not packed when I got in the shower.
I frown at it from the bathroom’s doorway, towel around my waist, humid air billowing into the bedroom.
I had my game-day stuff spread across the bed like usual, but it’s tucked inside the bulging Hellhounds bag now, with the suit I planned on wearing lying next to it.
Is my suit… ironed?
Pieces connect and I grunt a helpless laugh. “Bel?”
Something clatters in the kitchen.
A beat later, he pops up in the doorway, drying his hands on a dishcloth. His eyes widen at my bare chest, the towel low on my hips.
Spots of deeper pink burnish his pale cheeks. “Mm. I didn’t think we had time for that,” he says with a salacious smirk.
No, we don’t have time forthat, but I give myself a moment to eat him up anyway, because he’s here, and I can’t get enough.
He doesn’t have to dress up for the game-day arrival, so he’s in orange sweatpants, white sneakers, and a black Hellhounds tank, his tail tucked away and body transformed to human with the illusion spray. Around his neck is a band of white faux pearls Seb enchanted—if Bel crushes one between his fingers, both Seb and I will get a magic ping in our heads letting us know that he needs help. They also emit a general protection ward, keeping him safe from enchantments and most magical attacks. He can make the whole necklace vanish with his illusion spray when he has to wear his cheerleading uniform, but he hasn’t done that yet; he knows I think the pearls look sexy on him.
