“Oh, yeah. Well, Zephyr’s dad is the High Priest of the Norse Woods Coven right now. Has been since Julian’s dad was sacrificed. You’ll see Clarence Goody around sooner or later.”
Sacrificed?She’d said it so casually.
“Which one is Zephyr?” I asked, sliding my eyes back over to the pool table.
Fable lowered her mouth to my ear. “The tall one with the blond hair. Can’t miss him.”
Beside Julian, there was Zephyr, standing taller than all of them with slicked-back blond hair. Dark circles rimmed his deep-set eyes, the color of glowing emerald chips. He and Julian seemed to be in a controlled disagreement, and where their gazes were anchored, it had nothing to do with the game of pool. Both pairs of eyes were fixed in our direction.
Phoenix slammed two mugs over the bar in front of two customers sitting beside us, and the three of us flinched as foam sloshed over the lip of the glasses. Without a word, not even a skim of eye contact, he walked away and assisted the next customer.
“I’ll need another drink after this,” I said for the first time in my life.
As the night carried on, so did the music and drinks. Maverick, Milo, and Ivy had reappeared with a few others, the group growing in numbers. It was hard to keep track of all their names and faces, especially since I was seeing double inside the swaying room.
“TheTobias Morgan is your father?” A guy named Kane asked, sitting on the stool beside me. I nodded, my eyes drifting from his charming features to where the Hollow Heathens were seated. The pool game had ended, and they were all grouped at the other end of the bar. “I want you to meet my father,” Kane added, but his voice fell behind the way Julian was looking over at me out the corner of his eye. I mindlessly twisted my mood ring around my finger as our gazes connected and tangled and …
“Fallon?”
I snapped my head forward. “Yeah?”
“My father, I want you to meet him,” Kane repeated.
“Aren’t you supposed to take me on a date first?” I joked, and his blank eyes blinked. “Calm down, I’m kidding. I’m not much of a comedian and just spit out words when I’m uncomfortable.”
“Right …” Kane’s face scrunched.
“I don’t like talking about my dad,” I admitted, but the truth was, I didn’t like talking about this secret side of Dad everyone else knew. It made me feel as if I didn’t know him at all.
“Well, Tobias was my dad’s best friend growing up. He’d love to meet you, minus the date.” He pulled a glass to his lips, then lifted a shoulder. “Sorry.”
I nodded absentmindedly. “It was a joke. I didn’t mean it.” An uncanny attempt to backpedal my way out of my outburst. They were the first group who’d ever shown genuine interest in wanting to get to know me, and I didn’t want to scare them away with my social awkwardness.
Kane shook his head and stood from the bar, swallowing the last of his drink. “It’s okay, I’m used to it. But the truth is…you’re just not my type. It doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, or that you can’t meet my dad.”
You’re just not my type, my brain repeated. Another term I’d heard many times before without asking for it. No matter how many times I’d heard it, it still hurt all the same.
“Sure, yeah,” I agreed with a forced smile.
The first beat of a remake to “Sympathy for The Devil” dropped, and Kane raised his brows the same time the crowd went up in a roar. Drink-filled hands shot high into the air, and alcohol slapped over the floor. The crowded bar turned into a frenzy.
Monday shrieked and climbed over the stool and onto the bar, and the three Sullivan sisters joined her.
“What’s going on?” I called out to Kane as men snatched their drinks from the bar, clearing it for the dancing girls.
“You gonna go up there?” he asked without answering me, then lowered his soft-brown head, his nose brushing my hair. “Or has the town not gotten to you yet?”
“Gotten to me?” I glanced over to Phoenix, who threw a towel over his shoulder and leaned against the back wall, watching Fable with a shaking head as the music and stomping shoes vibrated the bar. Julian’s silver gaze latched to me, his elbows on the bar and drink secured in one hand, as if waiting for me to make a decision.
“What are you going to do, Fallon? Are you a flatlander or one of us?” Kane edged on.
Fable reached her hand out, and my brain went fuzzy. “Okay,” I said, not thinking, half nodding, half laughing.
Already committed, I linked my hand with Fable’s. Kane gripped my hips and hoisted me up on the bar, and once I was high in the air, I glanced around the room. The crowd looked up at me as the music pumped through the speakers, everyone waiting for me to do something.
“I’m a townie,” I screamed, throwing my arms high in the air. “And I’m really, really drunk!”
The entire room hollered at my declaration, and everyone went back to dancing to the unique cover of the song, including me. The crowd turned into a blur as I twirled in place with my arms out at my sides, my hair soaring all around. Fable grabbed my hand and pulled me to the center, and she and Monday began to teach me their stomping dance. I had no idea what I was doing and was too drunk to care. And perhaps this was why people drank, to not think.
