Her expression softens, and for a moment, I think she understands. Then her face shifts into a mask I’ve come to know like the back of my hand. Her belligerent and stubborn pride. She steps back, folding her arms over her chest, as if hiding her heart. “I need this win too. My reasons aren’t any less valid than yours.”
I clench my jaw. It was too much to hope she’d let this be easy. “Either of us can win by sales, Edwina. Don’t you see that now? You’re just as capable of winning Mr. Fletcher’s contract as I am. Let’s dissolve our ridiculous bet already and play fair.”
For several long moments she just stares at me. I hold my breath, silently begging her to see reason.
My hope shatters as she shakes her head. “I can’t risk playing fair. You’re right about us being closer in sales and popularity than I first thought, but it isn’t enough. You still have the advantage of having had this tour all to yourself the first week. I might never be able to make up for what you sold then. I need a sure bet. A win I can control with my own actions.”
Rage and hurt funnel through me. I step closer to her, fingers curled at my sides to keep from touching her. I’m not sure whether I want to hold her or shake her. “Do you understand what that means? What you’re making me do? If you refuse to let me dissolve our bet, I have only one choice. I have to play the game in earnest. Do you want that?”
Her eyes widen, and I can practically see her imagination running wild as understanding dawns.
Good. If it shocks some sense into her, I’ll make it even clearer.
I allow myself to touch her at last, lifting her chin with my thumb and forefinger. My touch remains gentle but my tone holds an edge. “Let me spell it out for you, Weenie. I may be willing to play fair and leave our win up to Mr. Fletcher’s choice, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to roll over and let you win this bet. Push me into a corner and I’ll fight. Refuse to play fair and I’ll play dirty. You want that? You want me to fuck someone else? You want me to do all the things I did to you last night with a stranger?”
Her eyes widen further, her chest heaving.
I brush my thumb over her bottom lip. “You want my touch on someone else’s skin? My lips on someone else’s throat? My fingers coaxing their pleasure? My cock filling them to the brim?”
She shakes her head, a subtle yet jerky motion.
I bring my face close to hers. “Then let me call off our bet.”
She leans slightly closer, her breath mingling with mine.
Fuck, this is dangerous. I didn’t mean to taunt her this way. I was supposed to draw a line between us. Get my head out of the clouds. Remember why loving a human is dangerous. Why I can never be enough. Why my goals for Cassie matter more than my heart. But already I feel myself crumbling at her proximity. Balanced on the precipice over the depths of my heart.
Maybe I can fall.
Maybe we can dissolve this bet and simply see where this goes without the pretense of our free pass. Maybe there’s a chance for something brighter, even if only one of us wins. Maybe?—
“No.” Edwina steps back so abruptly that I freeze in place. She refuses to meet my eyes as she speaks. “No, we can’t call off our bet. I…I need this. I can’t leave it up to chance.”
My heart splinters. Cracks.
Then I force myself to acknowledge this is for the best. She made her choice. The choice I should have made, because she’s right about the bet. It’s the only way either of us can fight for the win with our own efforts.
She steps back again, eyes downcast so I can no longer see them behind the glare over her lenses. Though she can’t hide the quaver in her voice. “Do what you need to do. I will too.”
She turns on her heel to flee. I reach for her, desperate to stop her retreat.
But my sensible side roots my feet in place.
My fingers close over air.
PART IV
HOW TO FALL IN LOVE WITH A FAE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
EDWINA
Imiss William. He sits beside me on the train yet it’s not really him. Not the version I’ve come to know, at least. The one I’ve come to like. Maybe it’s because Zane is no longer here to coax him into a casual mood. Or maybe it’s the aftermath of our rooftop conversation. Whatever the case, William has been every inch the arrogant poet since we left Lumenas and began our journey to our next destination. He speaks seldom and when he does, his tone is snide or disinterested.
Or flirtatious, but only in the case of interacting with his admirers. We’ve accumulated two during the final leg of our train ride, a newlywed couple who recognized William as the poet who’s been gaining fame around the isle. They haven’t left us alone since they planted themselves in the seats across from us beside Monty. Since this train offers only public cars for daytime travel, there’s no polite way to escape them. I wouldn’tcare to escape them at all if they’d give me an ounce of attention, but they only have eyes for William.
At least I’m not alone in my annoyance. Daphne curls on my lap, her back pointedly facing our guests. Though I suppose she could be annoyed at Monty more than our guests, for he hasn’t stopped chattering either. To be fair, I’m less annoyed with our guests and more with William. Now that he’s admitted to putting on an act with his fans, I can’t help noticing the contrast. His haughty tone. His stilted laugh. His controlled smile. He sounds nothing like how he does with me.
