CHAPTER 15
Elexia
The bar is a mix of dark wood and amber light. I’m currently slumped on a velvet stool, my feet finally free from the small heels, aka medieval torture devices. They’re tucked under the brass rail while I nurse a fresh drink and try to wrap my head around the fact that the last hour actually happened.
River leans against the bar beside me, her gold dress shimmering as she swirls her drink. For the last ten minutes, she’s been grilling me, practically glowing the whole time.
“No way,” she says, her voice a hushed, scandalous whisper. “They were just standing there the whole time? And you didn’t even notice?”
I shrug, heat creeping up my neck. “Not thewholetime. I don’t know. I was…a little preoccupied.”
River tips her head back and belts out a rich laugh that turns a few heads. “Girrrrl, you’ve made it! You have a walking, breathing dark-romance girly book boyfriend. He’s possessive, he’s lethal, and he provided you with a library-centered religious experience. This is so freaking perfect!”
I scrunch my brows, peering at her reflection in the mirror behind the bar. “So, since we’re sharing…where is your dark book boyfriend for my gold-plated queen?”
River leans in, her perfume wrapping around me like a hug. She kisses my cheek, cooing low in my ear, “Babes, you know I’m the female version, right? Just a bit softer….with more glitter.” She winks.
I blush, remembering how she first snatched me up at the florist shop, flirting with me. She would not-so-subtly stalk me, coming in every day. Georgie was fine with it since she bought a bouquet every time. And she’d always give me a rose, tapping the back of my hand or bumping into me on purpose.
She’d been so commanding, so self-assured, it thrilled me. Dominance has always turned me on—the strength, the clear boundaries—but I was in such a bad place then, I didn’t know how to handle it. I was still healing from Brett, believing I was the problem.
River taught me I wasn’t.
She pulls back, her expression soft and genuine. She touches the back of my hand. “Really, Lex. I’m so happy for you. And I’m proud of you. For being here. For taking this.”
I shrug again, eyeing my glass. “It’s only been two days, Riv.”
She lifts her drink, sipping long, a wicked glint in her eyes. “If he’s this obsessed with you after two days, imagine what he’ll be like at the end of the week! He’ll be building you a pyramid out of the bones of his enemies by Friday.”
We both laugh at that. It disrupts all tension and makes my chest feel lighter. But then River pokes me in the chest with a manicured nail. “But honestly, I want to know more. You found him all beat up in an alley. But who is hereally? Where did he come from? What’s the secret origin of the Irish God of Death?”
“Let us not spoil the mystery in chapter two now, River,” a familiar, low rumble interrupts.
My body responds, my shoulders arching as longing spears my chest. Liam sweeps into our space like a living shadow. He’s discarded his jacket, his sleeves rolled up to showcase hispowerful, tattooed forearms, and his gaze holds that wicked, knowing glint.
River smiles mischievously. “Oh, I think you’re in the teen chapters by now, Liam. At least the ones with the dog-eared pages.”
“Shame on you,” I slur and stick out my tongue.
A wave of dizziness hits me as I shift on my stool. Between the library, the adrenaline of the bathroom, and the vodka, my balance takes a vacation. I lurch forward, my hand missing the counter.
Liam is there, catching me with his steady, possessive hand.
“Sorry, Liam.” River reaches over to comb her fingers through my hair. “She’s not normally such a lightweight. Your ‘religious experience’ must have drained her.”
“Ugh, Riv!”
Liam just grins.
I try to protest with something sassy or clever, but it only comes out as a muffled, sleepy mumble against his chest.
He chuckles, the sound vibrating through me. “I reckon the night is coming to an end, then.”
“No, I’m fine,” I insist, looking toward the dance floor and silhouettes dancing beneath the chandeliers. “I don’t want to leave yet. We could dance again. I want to see the fountains. And the gardens.”
“Hey, Doodlebug, you can barely sit,” River points out firmly. “I’ll call an Uber, and we can check into a hotel. There’s a Marriott about twenty minutes out.”
“But…it’s so beautiful,” I gush. “It’s like a gothic romance. I want to live in these pages.” Oh, I’m definitely slurring.
