“Demons and minotaurs are still my comfort reads, although spiders and orcs are new monsters I’m trying out,” she said.
Those were two unexpected genres I hadn’t heard of.Spiders?
“I don’t even know how to respond to that,” I said. “How does the spider one work?”
“Maybe one day, I’ll read you an excerpt,” she said, her eyes shining up at me.
I think my mouth moved into something of a smile, though I wasn’t sure as I was trying to envision the spider logistics. Eight legs… were there arms? Pinchers?
A laugh sounded from her, prompting her to clap her hand over her mouth to hide it. “I can see it on your face,” she said. “That one threw you.”
“I’m really curious now,” I admitted.
“I’ll show you some artwork,” she said.
“That might help,” I said, and she continued to snicker at me. I stuffed my hands into my pockets, unable to keep from staring at her as we walked on. “Are you reading any gods smut?” I asked once she’d collected herself.
Her mouth twisted, lashes hitting the lids of her eyes, and the cutest fucking smile split her lips. “Why do I need fictional god erotica when I can just think of you?”
My insides were a warped braid of nerves and desire. Instinct wanted me to kiss her, tell her I was the only god whose name would ever grace her lips, but nerves held me back, and I had to force my gaze forward.
“What does your fiancé think about your reads?” I asked.
“Ah… he’s a little confused by them. He just doesn’t understand the appeal. I tried to film his reaction to a hot minotaur scene once, but he was so disgusted by it that it turned into an argument instead of a funny bit like I thought it would be.”
“Killjoy,” I said, and she laughed in agreement. “How are the wedding plans coming along?”
“They’re… coming, I guess. Lana is traveling into town again soon to try on her dress,” she said. “I’ll be glad when it’s all over, and I can burn the dress they picked out for me.”
“They?”
“Lana is still mad about it. My mother and sisters helped me pick out a dress instead of her. She keeps telling me it isn’t what I would have chosen.”
The mention of a wedding dress had me spiraling. “And you think she’s wrong?” I managed.
“No. She’s right,” Chloe admitted. “It’s beautiful. Long and white, flares out after my hips, strapless… but… I’ve always envisioned myself in a black wedding dress,” she said.
A black wedding dress…
The mention triggered something profound. A memory tugged at the very back of my mind—a memory I couldn’t retrieve. It was more frustrating than anything I’d ever experienced. My fists curled in on themselves as I tried to pull more of that to the forefront of my mind.
“Gavin?” she called out for me, and I quickly pushed the feelings far down into the pit of my stomach and kept moving forward.
“Sorry, I’m just trying to envision you in that dress,” I said. “So, why didn’t you get the black dress?” I asked.
“My sisters wouldn’t allow it. They’ve always told me I was being ridiculous. That I should wear a fitted satin mermaid dress with a simple rhinestone belt around my waist—not that there’s anything wrong with that. It’s beautiful, but it’s just not me.”
“It’s your wedding,” I said.
“Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it,” she replied. “There are so many voices and opinions to navigate, and I don’t want to disappoint anyone. It’s almost like—“ She paused as if what she was about to say was something she hadn’t admitted out loud before and then shook her head. “It’s stupid.”
“Tell me,” I said.
She considered me, those bright brown eyes looking more sincere than I’d seen since she walked back into my life, but the look was fleeting, and she turned back to stare at the sunset.
“It’s like something inside me doesn’t think it’s real,” she admitted. “Like a part of me is separated from the entire ordeal, and it’s not truly me getting married. And maybe that’s why all their decisions haven’t affected me.”
I forced myself to stay calm at the revelation. “What would you have instead?” I asked.
