I huff out a sigh and stretch my legs in front of me. “I just... need someone to talk to who isn’t in the band.”
And as pathetic as it is, Jules is the most likely candidate. I know I can’t talk to Elara about it and she’s my closest approximation of a friend. Considering the last conversation I had with her, where she encouraged me to be a band groupie, she’d tell me to throw caution to the wind.
“Try a bartender or a priest,” Julia replies. “That’s what I do. Well, the first one, anyway.”
“You think I should drive forty-five minutes to the nearest town to talk to a bartender about how Dorian is my fated mate?”
She pauses and then sighs loudly. “Who do you normally talk to about this shit?”
I snort. “Can’t say I’ve ever been in this situation before.”
“You’ve never had man trouble before? You were stuck in that life-sucking town for five years, right?”
“Three years,” I reply. “And I’m not saying I was celibate, I’m just saying that things were a lot less complicated. I had a temporary thing going with a shifter to scratch our mutual itches. But neither of us were ever interested in anything deeper than that.”
She hums. “How’d he take it when you upped and left with zero notice?”
My pause is long enough for her to start chuckling into the phone. “Shit. You did tell him you were leaving, right? What if he was secretly pining after you?”
I shake my head, even though she can’t see me. “I doubt that. I guess we’ll see how he takes the news when he next messages for a booty call. Or maybe word’s got around already.”
“Must be why I heard all that mournful howling the day after you skipped town.”
That pulls me up short. “Seriously?”
She snorts and I can’t tell if she was joking or not. “Honey, maybe girl talk will do you good. No wonder you and Dorian are mates. You’re both clueless.”
I grumble softly and rearrange myself on the floor beside my workbench, getting comfortable. “I’m not sure it should involve you insulting me.”
“This is how it’s gonna be with me, doll. Take it or leave it.” She doesn’t give me time to respond before she’s talking again. “So, you and Micah went on a date the other night, right? How did that go and what the hell are they putting in the water over there? Or have you got a magical pussy or something? If so, where did you get it? Because I could do with having a bunch of minions kissing my feet.”
I don’t know how to respond. So, I wind up coming out with something lame and cliche. “I dunno. I guess we just clicked. It feels like I’ve known them for years instead of weeks.”
She hums. “Riiight.”
“Don’t worry, Dorian already warned me off damaging their sensitive souls,” I tell her.
That causes Julia to cackle. “Yeah, sounds about right. Are you gonna keep on dating all three of them?”
“I... yes? I’m not even sure if Dorian and I will go down that route. You can have platonic soulmates, right?”
“I have no clue, but I’m pretty sure my cat is my soulmate and you don’t see me trying to marry him. Good for you, though, babe. Find the good and cling onto it.” She pauses. “They all know about each other, right? It’s not some fucked up situation where you’re sneaking from bed to bed? Because that could get nasty and I’d rather they didn’t murder each other before we can get this tour out into the world.”
I snort. “They all know.”
“Good.” I can hear her earrings clanking against the phone as she nods. “Well, if you want my advice, which, for some unknown reason it seems like you do. Talk to Dorian, get to know him. He’s a mystery to most people and I‘ve known them all a really long time.”
“Huh.”
“And remember, Sin, you don’t have to bone him just because fate told you that you can. Talk to him. See what facial expressions he makes when he’s not wearing the shades. Stare into his eyes and report back on what color they are, as I’ve always been curious. Wake him up early by charging into his bedroom, since no one else gets to see the ruffled, bedhead-y version of Dorian. Or, like, hide in his wardrobe and scare the shit out of him. There are so many possibilities, so many things that no one else cando.”
I mean, most of her ideas are terrible and sound like a twelve-year-old has come up with them, but I take her point. Dorian’s always got to be prepared when he’s around people. On guard in case his shades slip, but with me, he doesn’t need to be that way.
“Or not,” Jules continues. “You do you, girlfriend. Next time we do girl talk, give me an hour’s notice and I’ll make sure I have a drink beforehand... and during.”
“Noted,” I reply drily. “How’s everything with you?” I’m conscious I’ve not been holding up my end of the conversation and have just spilled my guts out to her without letting her do the same.
“Ooh, that’s a whole can of worms we’re not getting into right now. Maybe next time, after I’ve had several drinks.” She clears her throat and I can hear papers being shuffled in the background. “How’s the work going? Do you need anything from me or the rest of the team? Can you give me an estimate of when you’ll have anything ready for me and for Steve, the staging manager? He’s losing his mind about there being last-minute changes.”
