Page 55 of False Comeback

I paused, then politely said, “Barney and Ken?”

They nodded in sync.

“Pleasure,” I said after a moment, then moved on, trying not to let my lip curl as I came face to face with John-o’-the-Wisp. He’d quickly recovered after the mention of his brother—obviously a sore spot—and looked far too at ease. Cocky and full of himself.

“Hello,” I said reluctantly.

“Hi there.” He smirked and swept his gaze down my frame. When he took my hand, he squeezed it a little. “John. Nice to meet you, mate.”

“Crossbody,” I said back in a somewhat clipped voice, discreetly tugging my hand free and continuing before he could say anything else. When I stopped in front of La Dame Blanche, a small smile tilted my mouth.

“Pleasure to meet you,” I said in French. I was fluent in six languages.

“You speak French?” she asked in the same language, sounding delighted.

“Not perfectly, but well enough.” I tried to sound humble as my smile widened, even though I was near enough perfect.

She laughed, giving my arm a brief squeeze. “You’re better than ‘well enough.’ You’ll have to stop me from chattering away to you in French all the time. I still need to practise my English.”

“It sounded flawless,” I told her smoothly. “And I’d be more than happy to speak to you whenever you’d like.”

“You’re very kind. Thank you.” She patted my arm before releasing me. “I’m Eloise, by the way. And a phantom. You’re fae, yes?”

“Royal fae,” I couldn’t help but clarify, smoothing back my hair. “Prince of the Spring Court, actually.”

“Oh wow. I’ve heard that, when I’ve watched the wrestling before, but I assumed it was just your persona.”

“Not at all.” I managed to give her a polite smile, even though the topic always made me feel mildly ill. “Anyway, I’ll let the others introduce themselves. But do feel free to ask me any questions you may have.”

“Thank you.” She beamed up at me and tilted her chin, so I dutifully leaned down to let her air kiss my cheek.

As I stepped away, my gaze snagged on Vince. He was already watching me, his eyes slightly narrowed as they darted to La Dame Blanche. Then he quickly looked away, turning and busying himself with a protein shake at the counter.

I was feeling more hopeful as I walked back to the treadmill. Eloise seemed very pleasant, but I could already tell that I was unlikely to get on with John. He seemed similar to Vince. Maybe even worse.

And that was saying something.

Then I remembered our conversation with Corey earlier, and my mood instantly blackened.

Fucking couples therapy. With Vince.

Maybe I would just quit, so I wouldn’t have to go through that torture.

Chapter Eighteen

Demonic Creatures, Red Wine and Questionable Decisions

Crossbody

The restlessness was still there when I got home that night. The restlessness I’d hoped would finally leave me once my match with Vince was over.

Although it might have also been because of the fucking stupid thing I’d done last week. The other stupid thing. Not the… incident in the arena.

“Where are you this time?” I muttered in disdain, my lip curling as I cautiously walked into my living room.

Last night I’d come home to a puddle of regurgitated cat food on my rug. The night before it had been a monstrously large hair ball in the centre of a velvet cushion. And don’t even get me started on the kitty litter flung every direction in a wide circle around the litter box.

Why did I listen to Corey? I thought in despair as I hesitantly peered under the sofa and coffee table, bracing myself. I’m not a cat person. No one should be a cat person. Cats are evil.