After the wash, consisting of several products and a scalp massage so mind-numbing I nearly fell asleep, we head back to my original seat.
“Your English is impeccable. I was thinking maybe you didn’t speak much of it. Where are you from?” he asks.
Vankhala. “Italia, originally.”Not a complete lie, I suppose.
“Oh, that’s wonderful,” he says, full of genuine excitement, “I’ve always wanted to visit. What brought you here?”
“Belissenda.”Also not a lie.
“Wow, moving across the world for someone? So romantic.”
“I would travel farther. No distance would be too great.” I’ve known this woman all of two days, and I know intrinsically that it’s true.
“That’s beautiful. She’s lucky to have you,” he states.
At that I begin to laugh, “I think she would disagree with you, my friend.”
“Are you kidding?” he chortles with me, “That girl looks at you like you hold the answer to the question everyone asks themselves.”
“What question is that?” I attempt to keep the growing hope from my voice.
“Why are we all here?” I have nothing to say to that, wondering if it could possibly be true.
Seemingly finished with our existential discussion and my hair, he spins me back toward the mirror, “I amsogood.”
I have to agree. I am a handsome devil if I do say so myself, but he’s managed to make me even more appealing. My hair is far shorter on the sides than I’ve ever worn, but he’s left it long on top and styled it, so it’s combed back and to the side. The top seems very poofy to me, but I’ve seen other men with the same style, so I’m assuming it’s proper for this time.
As he removes the cape, a high-pitched whistle travels from the entry area. Bel’s huge smile tells me we did something right by coming here. “You like it?” I ask.
“So much better.” Turning to Rafe, she gushes, “You are a miracle worker. What’s the damage?” Then she pays him his fee and some extra as a thank you.
As we exit the salon, I clutch her hand in mine, thanking her for arranging this. It doesn’t do much to help me adjust to this world, but it’s a start, and she did it expecting nothing in return. Every moment we’ve spent together has held an undercurrent of fear from this brave warrior and yet, she has offered me displays of kindness I have never been given before.
“It’s nothing, really. I couldn’t look at that godawful haircut for one more second. It was an entirely self serving act because now you look like a fucking snack.” At my perplexed expression, she giggles, “A snack? It’s like… slang. Like you look good enough to eat?”
Her teasing tone and raised brows have me pulling her closer by our entwined hands, “Darling Bel, I think we both know thatyou’rethe one of us who’s going to beeaten.”
Her face burns pink, pupils blown as she tries to create space between us. Seemingly realizing that’s not an option, she clears her throat and announces, albeit clumsily, “Now, uhhh, clothes,” and pulls me back to her car.
* * *
A few hours later, we are back in the elevator with just a few items in hand. I only allowed Bel to buy me a couple things, not confessing to her that I simply took the vast majority of the items I wanted. She doesn’t need to know that I transported all the rest of the clothes I picked home. It would only upset her that I took that much from the mortals. Clothing in this century is very different, but there were so many options I had to have a bit of everything.
When we exit the hoist and walk towards her home, I make what is almost certainly a foolish, reckless decision. I’m going to kiss her. With no expectation of more, just a little kiss to show my appreciation. Friends do that. Right? In this day and age, surely a little affection between friends is acceptable.
As she unlocks her door and steps inside, I slip a hand around her slim waist and spin her in a dance just for us until her back is against the inside of the door. My other hand cups her jaw, and I pause, just for a moment, giving her the time to refuse.
When she doesn’t, I let myself have just one small chaste press of my lips to hers, then I pull back. Why? I don’t know. To thank her again? To look at her face in hopes that it wears the same desperate expression as mine? But instead, she takes me by surprise, hooking both hands around my neck and pulling me back for more.
I’m holding myself back, knowing if I don’t, my need for her is going to startle her, and this will be over before it even begins. She uses her pillowy lips to gently work mine open and lightly lick inside my mouth.Fuck.I use my thumb against her chin to open her further, pushing my tongue to slide greedily against hers. Pulling her bottom lip gently with my teeth, I draw a small gasp from her.
A throat-clearing sound fills the air, followed by, “Uhhh, hi Bel. Bel’s friend.” I push off the door, spinning to face the threat, keeping Bel behind me.
“Isla! What are you doing here?” Oh. No threat, then. She runs toward her friend and gives her a hug, Isla not taking her watchful eyes off me. I follow a few steps behind, trying to come across as a doting paramour, not a demon who was just considering using my claws to rip through Bel’s clothing.
“I was in the neighborhood and figured you were working.” Raising an eyebrow, she teases, “But you were doing somethingfarmore interesting.”
“Shit. Isla, Caspian. Caspian, Isla.” Guilt crosses her face, and before she can say another word, I reach out to shake her friend’s hand.
