Page 27 of Sleep With Us

“No, that’s true. A cocktail, then?”

“Great idea.” I showed him both thumbs, in a thumbs-up, and backed toward the bar. “And we’ll talk. Soon. Just . . . I just need to do this. It’s important. You know?”

He smiled. “Of course, Adam. Summon me when you are ready.”

“I will do that.”

I tried Tom Collins, but his suggestions included a concoction of drugs and alcohol, which I was definitely not giving Zee. I eventually settled on something that soothed me when I was down, and hurried with it to Zee’s room. I knocked, and heard his call to enter.

He’d left a trail of clothing, leading toward the bathroom. Steam rolled out around the half-closed door.

I loitered outside. “Hey.” I needed to see him. Was he alright? I ached to see him, to hold him, so I knew we were okay. “May I come in?”

“Anytime,” he said, sounding a lot less bubbly than he had in the lobby.

I nudged the door open and saw his wings first, rising up from where he reclined on the sloped end of the bath. He’d draped his arms over the rolled edges of the tub. A mountain of bubbles spilled onto the floor and hid the rest of him from view. His wet hair clung to his face, making him seem leaner and harder, but then he smiled, and the heavy burden of guilt lifted off my shoulders.

“Why are you holding a bowl of cheesy pasta?”

“It’s mac and cheese. It’s for you, but I . . . maybe later? I guess.” I hunted around for somewhere to put the bowl, but there were bottles, brushes, aftershave, shower gels, and a whole array of body products all over.

“The mac and cheese is for me?” Zee asked, head tilted.

“It’s silly, I know. I thought, well, it cheers me up, so I thought you might like it too?”

He beckoned me forward, took the bowl, and tucked in. “This is good,” he mumbled around a mouthful. “Chef Étrange make this?”

“Especially for you.”

“This is the best fucking thing I’ve ever eaten.”

I sat myself on the floor by the bath, and leaned against the side panel. “Do you mind if I stay?”

“I need you here,” he said casually, then devoured the mac and cheese, and handed me the bowl to set aside. “That was so good. Mac and cheese is the fucking best.”

“I’m glad. Madame Matase suggested a Squishmallow, but I don’t know what that is.”

He rolled his eyes up in thought. “Is it edible?”

“I don’t think so.”

He sighed, and draped himself against the back of the tub again. “This is good. You brought me mac and cheese. I have bubbles. I’m good.”

He was back, but it seemed a bit too good to be true. “Are you good?”

“I will be.” He stared at the ceiling.

I propped my chin on my arm, resting on the side of the bath, and studied his face, with its strong lines and angles. His little horn ring glinted, and his hair had dried some, springing out. He truly was beautiful, in a chaotic way. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Kitten, you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

A sob wedged in my throat. “You said . . . it was over.”

“For Sebastien. So he’d let you go.” He turned his head, looking over. “Sorry. But you shouldn’t have been there. Also, what the fuck, Adam? I told you to stay away.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Sebastien is my battle. You can’t fight him for me.”