“Then it’s a no from me, dawg. Pun intended.”
Bella uncurled herself from her chair. “Bring Killian next time though. We miss his chaos energy.”
“He already made me do a pinky promise.” I smiled, thinking of his serious little face. “Apparently if I break it, I owe him ice cream.”
“He has you wrapped around his finger,” Daphne observed.
“Completely. And I’m not even ashamed.”
I checked the time on my phone and winced. Two hours had flown by, the way they always did when I was with these women. We’d been friends since high school, since we’d started the Society of Edward’s Sparkles as obsessed freshmen convinced we’d find our own supernatural soulmates someday.
Turns out we were right. Just not about the vampire part.
“I have to go.” I stood, and they all rose with me. “I’m sorry. The banquet-”
“Go.” Krystin waved her hand. “Save the werewolf political alliances. We’ll hold down the fort.”
“You mean you’ll drink the rest of the coffee and gossip about me after I leave?”
“Obviously. Bella’s going to do an impression of your ‘I’m a queen now’ face.”
“I don’t have a face!”
“You absolutely have a face,” Bella said. “It’s this-” She lifted her chin, pursed her lips slightly, and adopted an expression of vague constipation mixed with panic.
“I do NOT look like that.”
“You kind of do,” Daphne admitted.
“I hate all of you.”
We squeezed each other in a group hug, and made promises to visit more and bring Killian next time. Then I stepped back through the portal, feeling the tug of magic-
And Mal was there.
Of course he was. Standing right in front of the portal point, hands clasped behind his back, clearly having been pacing. His head snapped up the moment I appeared.
“You waited for me again?” I asked, stepping fully into Lytopia.
“No. I just happened to walk past.”
He pulled me into his arms immediately, crushing me against his chest like I’d been gone for weeks instead of barely minutes for him. I felt his nose press into my hair, breathing me in.
“You know I can handle a portal to my own bookstore, right?”
“I know.” His arms tightened. “But I prefer to be here when you return.”
“Clingy,” I murmured against his chest.
He pulled back just enough to look at my face, his hands coming up to cup my cheeks. “Completely yours.”
I felt myself melt, the way I always did when he said things like that. “Okay, that was smooth.”
“I have been practicing.”
He kissed me softly, nothing like the desperate morning kisses in our bedroom. This was tender, relieved. The kiss of a man who’d spent two hours worrying about something he knew was irrational but couldn’t help anyway.
“How are your friends?” he asked when he finally released me.
