He grins. “We were good friends, you and me. It could be fun. Friends with benefits as the humans say.”
The proposition isn’t exactly surprising. River’s never hidden his attraction to me, and he’s not the type to be ashamed or uncomfortable about sex. But the feeling isn’t reciprocated. I do find River objectively attractive, but I’m not attracted to him. Chemistry is one of those things that’s either there for me or it isn’t. In this case it isn’t. When I’m with River, all I feel is kinship, like he’s my brother or something. I try not to compare it to the fireworks that go off in my body when I’m around Seven, but I can’t help but think of that now. I don’t want Seven either, but I hope to have that type of chemistry with someone who deserves it one day.
Besides, as much as I like to think of myself as a modern woman, I’m not into casual sex. My cheeks grow warm, and it’s not from the fire. “I’m afraid we’ll have to stay benefit-free. My crazy heart just doesn’t work like yours, River. I know myself, and deep down, I want love and monogamy. I care for you too much to ruin our friendship with sex.”
He laughs darkly. “Have we met?” he jokes.
“Seriously,” I say. “Your heart is much too large for one person, and I’m a one-person girl. It would never work.”
“Got it. It’s important to be honest with oneself about these things, although I can’t say I’m not disappointed.” Another satyr comes by with a pitcher and refills our glasses. “Friends then!” He clinks his goblet against mine.
We continue watching Patrick sing and play. I’m amazed how comfortable I feel considering the conversation we just had. The wine flows, and we chat about everything from the moon to my experience working as a poker pro. I’m feeling a little tipsy by the time I remember the other thing I planned to ask him.
“Uh, River, do you have any jobs open at the tavern? I need to find work. It seems that FIRE has confiscated all my assets.”
“Aww, I’m sorry Sophia. I’m all staffed up,” he says regretfully. “I’ll make room on the schedule for you if you need it, but it won’t be full time. Seems like a waste of talent though.”
“What do you mean?”
“You should apply to be a dealer at the casino. You’re more than qualified, and the pay there is stellar, far better than a server at a tavern. I’m sure fuckhead would put in a good word for ya. He owes you as much.”
I groan. Everything he suggests is true, but the idea of having to potentially see Seven—or worse, his father—every day turns my stomach. “Ugh, working for leprechauns? I think I’d rather poke myself in the eye repeatedly with broken glass.”
His smile tells me he understands. “Ask me again if you want me to take a shoehorn to the schedule.”
“Thanks, Riv. I’m going to try to find something else, but I’ll be in touch if I’m desperate.”
“Nothing I like better than a desperate woman asking for my assistance.” He gives a deep chuckle and sips from his wine. We stare toward the fire.
The night unfolds around us until there are so many writhing bodies in the darkness that I start to feel awkward pressure to join in. I hug River good night and slip back into the theme park through theCharacter’s Onlydoor near River’s Tavern. A streetlamp casts an ochre glow over a red cobblestone walkway. I jump when I see Seven standing in the shadows just beyond.
“What are you doing here?” I blurt.
He steps into the brightness, and in my inebriated state, I forget to guard myself against the impact of his presence. It’s late, and he’s traded his suit for a black T-shirt and distressed jeans. His eyes crinkle at the corners as he takes me in, but his smile is too shallow to have caused them. The smile is a ruse to hide something more. He studies me with intense interest.
“Following up on a noise complaint,” he says, but I detect a lie in his voice, and I call him on it.
“Bullshit. You’re following me.”
He steps in closer, his gaze almost predatory. I sense his luck rise around him. It slithers by me, raw, feral energy, and I can’t hold back a shiver. His hand lifts to cradle my jaw and run his thumb across my bottom lip. “Fine. Then let’s just say I came because I wanted to make sure you were safe.”
“I’m a big girl, Seven. I can take care of myself.”
He looks at me through impossibly long lashes. “Yes you can. I’ve always known that about you, from the day we met.”
“I was six when you met me.”
“You were a very precocious and wise six-year-old.”
I’d heard someone crying in the woods behind our school. Seven was there, alone and miserable. I told him funny stories, and we took him back to my house where Mom fed him cookies and eventually escorted him home. I had no idea at the time that it was odd for a leprechaun to cry or that a pixie with any sense wouldn’t befriend a leprechaun. I just saw a sad person and wanted to make him happy. My parents must have approved of that plan because they welcomed him in with open arms.
“What were you crying about that day anyway?” I ask, realizing my child’s mind had never thought to ask.
“I don’t remember.” I sense he’s lying. “I was using luck to keep people away. It didn’t work on you.”
I giggle, the effects of the wine making me sway on my feet. “HowdidI do that?”
“I’ve always had a blind spot for you, Sophia.” A ghost of a smile flits across his face. “Also, I was young and had focused my luck on distracting anyone who wasn’t a true friend. I didn’t expect a true friend would find me. I definitely didn’t expect she’d be a pixie.”
