Camile is telling a story about how she once snuck into the cafeteria when she was drunk and tried to turn on the stoves to cook herself some food.
She giggles. “The dean was so crazy pissed at me, I thought I was going home to Mexico.”
Vani snorts. “Honestly, you’re the last person I’d expect to do something like that. That’s more like my trick.”
“Nah, you’re all settled down now,” Camile teases. “Sensible Vani, with her men watching over her.”
Vani glances over to where Zane is still lurking. “It does feel like they can’t keep their eyes off me.”
“You’re not the only one.” Camile jerks her chin toward Roman. “Mr. Viking over there hasn’t stopped staring at Ophelia.”
I press my lips together and my cheeks warm with pleasure.
Camile lets out a long, wistful sigh and props her chin on her hand.
“What’s up?” Vani asks.
“Oh, nothing, really.” Camile shrugs. “I know I was against you getting involved with those guys, but I have to admit I have moments where I wish I had a whole gang of gorgeous men looking at me the way your men look at you.”
Vani nudges her elbow into Camile’s ribs. “Your time will come. You’re smart and beautiful. The right guy—or guys—will come along.”
Camile rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. In the meantime, I’m always the bridesmaid and never the bride.”
Vani’s cell is on the table beside her, and it lights up as it starts to buzz. Camile glances at it, and her eyes widen. “Wow, who is the silver fox?”
“Eeew, Camile, that’s my dad. Don’t get any ideas!” Vani laughs and answers the phone. “Hey, Dad. Yes, I’m good. Just in the cafeteria with a couple of friends. Oh?”
She listens for a minute and then her face lights up. “Really? When? Oh, my God, that’s awesome.”
Zane, who has been standing back this entire time, giving Vani some girl time, has moved closer and is now hovering.
“Yes, great, see you then.”
Vani hangs up and claps her hands. “That was my dad. He’s coming to Verona Falls because he’s on his way to a meet with an MC chapter that isn’t far from here. He’ll be here in two days.”
Zane’s face is a picture, and I bite back a smile.
Camile glances at Vani’s phone again. “Maybe I’ll meet him while he’s visiting?”
“I doubt it,” Vani says dismissively, and Camile shrugs. Then they’re back on an even keel again, talking about a girl who allegedly is having an affair with a member of the staff.
As much as Vani and Camile are doing their best to distract me, my thoughts are only in one place—with Cain and Malachi. I keep questioning whether I’d feel it if they were dead, and Isearch deep inside myself for any changes. It would break me, but it would also break Roman, and I almost fear that more.
Roman, all Nordic, six feet something of him suddenly tenses, and his hand dives into his jeans pocket to retrieve his cell. He strides away as he swipes the screen and places the phone to his ear.
My stomach lurches, and I don’t even bother to excuse myself from Camile and Vani. They’re now talking about some celebrity I don’t know, so it’s not as though I could really join in the topic of conversation anyway.
I do my best to read Roman’s body language, but he’s bolt upright, his shoulders tense and his back to me. It might not even be the others on the phone, but instinct tells me it is. If they’re calling, it means they’re alive, right? But then it might only be one of them informing us of the other’s death.
My stomach knots, and I think I’m going to be sick. My eyes well with tears.
“Roman?” I say when I reach him. “What’s happened?”
He turns to me, and immediately I know it’s good news. My body doesn’t seem to quite get the message, though, as my legs turn to jelly and my knees give way beneath me. Roman is with me in an instant, scooping me into him and supporting me. I wrap my arms around his neck and cry with relief.
He holds me tight. “Shh, it’s okay. They’re safe. Cain’s father has been dealt with.”
He strokes my hair and kisses my forehead. I sniffle and nod against his shirt, inhaling the familiar scent of him. I know that bydealt with, Roman means Cain has had to kill his own father, and guilt hits me hard.
