After her shift, we stopped by her favorite all-night cafe again so she could get yet another pumpkin spice latte and sweet cake.
We stroll through an old cemetery as the crisp night air nips at us. I’ve learned this is my goth girl’s happy place. One she reluctantly shares with me.
True to Rap’s word, Cinder returned to work after twenty minutes of being in the locker room.
Though despite my asking everyone what happened, no one would answer me. Cinder rolled her eyes and told me to mind my own fucking business. The only one I could squeeze anythingout of was the bookstore owner, who told me as much as she knew.
Cinder occasionally gets dizzy, disappears for about a half hour then returns no worse for wear.
The memory of her stumbling during our first dance flashes in my mind, and then there’s when I had to hurry her out of the ballroom after our engagement was announced.
She seemed off-balance, weak. But she recovered soon enough. Still, I couldn’t help but feel the prickles of annoyance at not being told what was wrong.
Not that I fix things or make them better, but. . . something in me wants to try. For once.
As I gabbed with her friends, Cinder almost deliberately seemed to stick to the outskirts. She listened, and only occasionally chimed in.
It seems as though another one of Ted’s attempts to propose may have been thwarted.
He cooked a romantic dinner at home complete with candlelight and a tie. He’d been telling Goldie how much she means to him when one of his brothers stumbled in with a girl on his arm, bringing the party back to Ted and Goldie’s place. Things went downhill after that.
I've a mind to step in and help Goldie’s lumberjack-esque bear shifter beau. But from the few times I’ve encountered him at the Poison Apple, I don’t get the vibe that intrusion would be appreciated.
When I asked Goldie if Cinder would quit working to hang out, she responded that Cinder didn’t always feel comfortable in group settings.
Goldie didn’t tell me the information with any judgment, only love and acceptance.
Snow nodded her head. “Yeah, she just takes her space when she needs it.”
I wondered if Cinder knew how great her friends were, but I suspected she knew.
I kick a rock off a grave and respond to Cinder’s question. “Your friends are catching me up on the shitty mage reality shows I used to watch when I was in university in the Common World. I haven’t kept up in years. Not to mention I give great man advice.”
“That’s surprising considering you're only half a man,” she shoots back before sipping on her impossibly large drink. Whiffs of cinnamon and cardamom invade my senses.
“Want me to pull my pants down and prove my manliness to you?” I ask with my best playboy smile.
Those violet eyes flash as she scowls. “Don’t do that.”
“Flash you my gigantic manly dick hose?”
She shoots me the purple death. “Use that bullshit fake publicity smile with me.”
My heart clenches inexplicably. “I?—”
“And don’t tell me you don’t know what I mean. I’ve seen enough to know when it’s real and when it’s not.”
Well shit. Now a flutter has kicked up in my chest.
“Sorry.” My apology comes out a little hoarse.
No one’s ever called me on it before. Though I do possess an almost painful awareness of when I’m turning the lightbulb on and off for the Prince Charming show.
There’s a pause that is weighted by her calling me out, so I shoot my shot again.
“What happened at the bar tonight? You got dizzy. It also happened in the ballroom after we got engaged,” I point out.
Cinder shoves the last half of her spiced bread into her mouth until it’s near bursting with the cake. Then she points to her mouth, indicating she can’t talk.
