I shake my head. “I have to get back to the store.”
“What are you doing there anyway? You always hated working at your parents’ store. You once told me working retail was a torture that would be illegal if forced on animals.”
“It isn’t my favorite thing to do, but I need the money.”
He swaggers closer to me. “Why haven’t you applied at the casino? You’d make an excellent dealer. I assure you the compensation package is the best in Dragonfly.”
I heave a sigh of frustration. “I’ll think about it.”
“What’s there to think about?”
I circle my gaze toward the sky. “Um, working for and with your abusive, dickhead father, for one. Two, watching other people play my favorite game in the world and not being able to join in. That’s its own torture.”
His smile fades slightly. “You can play me.”
“Not the same.” My brain fills with images of playing poker with him. I miss it more than I’ll ever admit.
“If I could change the rules for you, I would. Even if I wanted to make an exception, I couldn’t. The law comes straight from Godmother. Poker with fae isn’t fair to the humans, and the last fae-only tournament we tried ended badly. There was so much luck swirling in that room, a satyr’s chair broke, and he fell into the player next to him, sending the pixie crashing through the second-floor window. Thank gods he could fly.”
Even as a kid I remember what a disaster those yearly tournaments were. All fae have varying levels of control over their luck, just like humans have varying levels of control over their emotions. The difference is, in a gambling situation, a typical fae combats more than just their need to control the cards. Fairies in general find it difficult to turn down a direct invitation to wager. We learn early on not to say things to each other like, “I’ll bet you five dollars you can’t climb the flagpole.” It’s not that we can’t deny the urge to take those bets. It is possible, and more emotionally mature fairies will have no problem saying no to such a wager. But it creates a hunger in us, an impulse.
If you’re at the poker table and someone goads you with words like, “You can’t fold! Can’t you see he’s bluffing? You’re not going to let him get away with that, are you? I’ll bet you a chip he doesn’t have the hand he says he does.” It’s difficult for us to resist. And while I’ve learned to suppress this impulse playing among goading humans, most fae would give in to the temptation, especially if they were tired after long hours of play. It would be an absolute mess.
“I’ll think about the dealer job.” I need work. There’s no getting around it. The Delaney family owns half the businesses in Dragonfly, so it would be hard for me to avoid working for them in some capacity anyway, and he’s right about the pay and benefits being the best I could get.
We stand there staring at each other for a moment, Seven taking me in like I’m a painting hanging in an art gallery. He’s studying me.
“About Shadowvale…,” he starts.
I groan. “Fine. When do we leave?”
“Tomorrow. You’ll need something more appropriate for the terrain.” He eyes my gown with distaste. “I’ll send over some hiking gear.”
The last thing I want to do is to take anything else from him, but there’s no way I can afford proper clothing and equipment for a trip like this. “Fine, but seriously Seven, you’ve been far too generous. You know I can’t repay you, right? Like ever.”
“It’s necessary for the job Godmother charged us to do. It’s covered.”
I nod, still feeling awkward about not paying my own way. “I should get back to the Silver Ember. My parents need the help today.”
He cups my elbow and steps in closer. “About last night. I meant every word of what I said in my apartment.”
“So did I. I forgive you.”
“About what happened afterward too.” His gaze settles on my lips. “We’d be good together. Webelongtogether.”
I look him in the eye and shake my head. After hours going over everything last night, I finally know my feelings on the subject and I boil them down into one word. “Why?”
The corner of his mouth pulls back in confusion. “What do you mean why?”
“Why do you think we belong together?” I ask. “Why not find someone more suitable? Someone of your own kind.”
He gets a faraway look in his eye. “I tried that. It hasn’t worked out.”
Hmmm. I’m going to have to ask my grandmother who Seven was seeing while I was gone. Internally, I slap my own face. Why do I care who Seven was seeing? Ugh.
“You want me. You kissed me last night. I didn’t imagine that.”
I glance away toward the safety of a bird soaring across the sky. “I did kiss you, and if I’m being honest, I do want you. But we’re not kids anymore. Sexual attraction isn’t enough.”
