“That went well,” Victor said, loosening his bow tie with obvious relief. “Better than expected.”
“Except for Lilith trying to crawl inside your jacket on the dance floor.”
“She was trying to provoke you.”
“It worked.”
He paused, jacket half-removed. “Did it?”
Instead of answering, she went to change.
The bathroom offered sanctuary. Marble and mirrors and the slow ritual of removing armor.
She took her time with makeup wipes, watching the careful construction dissolve into bare skin. Brushed her teeth. Stared at her reflection: the woman who’d kissed a demon in front of a hundred witnesses, who was about to share a bed with him, who was falling so far so fast she couldn’t see the bottom anymore.
When she emerged in the silk pajamas Victor had chosen, cream colored, ridiculously soft, definitely not chosen with any specific intention in mind, he was already in bed.
T-shirt and pajama pants. Reading glasses she’d never seen before perched on his nose. A book in his hands, something old, leather-bound, probably worth more than her student loans.
And down the center of the mattress: a wall of pillows.
“Subtle,” she said.
“I thought boundaries might be helpful.” He removed the glasses, set aside the book. “Given the circumstances.”
She climbed into her designated side, trying not to notice how the mattress dipped under her weight, how the sheets felt like sleeping inside a cloud, how good he looked in casual clothes with his hair falling loose across his forehead.
The lights dimmed at some unspoken command, leaving only moonlight filtering through gauze curtains. Silver and shadow. His breathing, steady and close.
“Goodnight, Victor.”
“Goodnight, Ava.”
She turned off her lamp. Darkness rushed in, broken only by the glow of the moon on water. She could hear him breathing. Feel the warmth of him radiating across the pillow barrier. Smell cedar and smoke, his scent, familiar now, comforting in ways she didn’t want to examine.
“Ava?”
“Yeah?”
“What Cassandra said. About how I look at you.” A pause that stretched like taffy. “It’s true.”
Her heart stuttered.
“Victor…”
“I know our timing got complicated. Arrangement became attraction became something neither of us planned for.” The sheets rustled as he shifted. “But this isn’t about the claim anymore. It hasn’t been for a while.”
She stared at the ceiling, words tangling in her throat.
“For me either,” she admitted to the darkness.
Neither spoke.
“I’m half in love with you,” she whispered.
“Only half?”
She heard the smile in his voice: tentative, hopeful, younger than his centuries.
