“I have another hot date that night,” he says, with a shrug. I let out a sharp laugh and lightly shove him.
“Who’s this hot date?” I ask, the smile on my face not budging.
“A beautiful woman with orange hair and warm, deep brown skin,” he says, laughing, twisting his fork in my apple slices and picking one up.
“Auburn hair,” I correct slowly, watching as he brings the fork to my lips. This is what mates do: they watch each other eat and wait for the other to eat before they do. I see his actions, and I know what he’s doing, but I can’t find a single reason to stop him. I often forget about habits that mates are suppose to have.It’s more than a sign of mates, it’s an otherworldly experience when Eddie does them.
Milo… Milo didn’t have these habits. He never waited, and even as the thought floats into my mind, I know it’s unfair. Milo was a sweet guy in other ways. He might’ve never waited to eat with me, but he—he always made sure I was dressed well, even going as far to do my clothes shopping for me. He cared for me in different ways, and I have to remember that. He loved me, too.
“Who said I was talking about you?” Eddie jokes with one raised eyebrow and a laugh.
“Eddie!” I shout as a harsh flush fills my cheeks. He takes this time to slip his fork between my lips, which I bite down on as he slides his fork back.
“Of course, I’ll come with you,” he says, picking up another slice.
“Yay,” I say so low I hope he doesn’t hear, but I know he does. He feeds me another apple slice, and I blush profusely but don’t have the courage to stop him. “You own a tux?” I ask.
“Do I own a tux? Yes, I’m an architect. I’m sure I have a tux in a closet somewhere.” Eddie winks before guiding another apple slice in my mouth.
“Is Layla going?” he asks, finally eating his own apple.
“Absolutely not,” Layla says, walking into the kitchen and digging through the fridge. She mostly stays in her room, similar to how a teenager would, but in her defense, she only just turned twenty. “I probably have work.”
“It’s Harper’s mating ceremony. I thought you two got along?” I ask her. The three of us didn’t hang out often, as Harper was always off doing who knows what with Mom, but I thought they got along.
“Not enough to sit through a mating ceremony,” she says. “It’s not as if you see an invitation for me lying around here.”
“You can be my plus one?” I offer. I mean, I’m taking Eddie, but if Layla wants to visit back home, I can call Harper. She loved Layla before everything that went down.
“Sounds like you have a plus one already.” She sighs before storming off to her room. Hearing her slam her door strikes lightning down my back. Oh my gosh, is she mad about Eddie and me? Am I betraying her?
“Let me go talk to her,” I mutter, following behind my hurt, almost sister-in-law. I knock on her door, praying she’ll let me in. Gosh, how could I be this insensitive?
“Come in,” she says, and I walk in slowly. She’s comfortable here, to say the least. She rearranged the room and bought a vanity. When she did this, I have no idea, and that might have been the problem.
“Layla, what’s wrong?” I ask, crawling onto her bed where my cat Nola is stretched out, her orange fur a stark contrast to the white sheets I knew better than to buy. Layla sits at her white vanity, staring at me through the big round mirror with little light bulbs lighting her face. She’s applying a face mask, and she has a creamy velvet robe over her pajamas. She puts her plastic applicator down on a small towel before turning to face me.
“Will you finally tell me?” she blurts out.
“Tell you what?” I ask, incredibly confused. What does she think I’m hiding from her? I think back to everything that’s happened over the last few days that could’ve hurt her, and I can’t think of anything, which makes me flustered. This doesn’t feel good. My stomach is getting sick from the growing guilt, and I hate to have hurt her. My breathing is getting heavier, and I try to keep that little fact to myself. I don’t need her worrying over my guilt when I’m the problem. I swallow down a gulp and try to even out my breath, trying to count straight. One, two, then three in and the same out.
“Is he your mate?” She doesn’t miss a beat asking me this question. She doesn’t blink or breathe, and I don’t think I do either. My heady breaths come to a stop, and my lungs constrict as the question rambles around in my brain. Shock seems to work in calming me down.
She’s direct, and I didn’t need directness. I need patience. I need time. It’s the question I could hardly confront myself, yet here Layla is directly asking me out loud. A question I can’t answer.
“I don’t know.”
“So, you think Milo wasn’t your mate?” She follows up before my lack of an answer can fully leave my mouth. I can’t gauge if she’s upset or hurt or angry even. Milo was her brother, my mate, and here I am falling in love with another man. How is this even possible?
“I don’t know, Layla. Everything has been a mess, and I don’t know what to think.”
“Well, how do you feel?” she asks quietly. Her brown eyes pierce through me, and by the Moon Goddess’s magic, I wish I had a clear-cut answer.
“I like Eddie a lot.” There is only one thing I know, and it is that I’m falling for Eddie Enchanted.
“Do you like him more than my brother?” Layla asks in a low voice. I know the answer; hell, I knew since the first time Eddie Enchanted wrapped his arms around me in the grocery store. But how can I tell her I love another when I had a mate, her brother, of all people?
“Honestly?” I ask, twisting the bed cover between my fingers. Layla is grown, and if she doesn’t already know, then she’ll learn that the answers we desperately want are the ones that are the hardest to find and the hardest to admit.
