“I know my girl,” Elliot boasts as he releases me. “I told you. Didn’t I tell you?”
He points at Owen for confirmation, but Owen only rolls his eyes and tosses down the rest of his cards.
“Ya’ll have to be cheating,” he grumbles. “That’s three in a row.”
Elliot shrugs, downing the rest of his tea.
It’s probably cold by now. He spent the last thirty minutes fixated on the cards in front of him. But he doesn’t seem to care.
“Not my fault you don’t know your girl’s tell,” Elliot counters. “How many times does she have to bite her nail before you catch on?”
Owen quiets, and Elsie’s power ignites, sending the cards flying, as her anger sparks.
I don’t think her irritation is for Elliot. I don’t even think it’s for Owen. But whoever it’s for, better steer clear.
She collects the cards with a snap of her finger and announces with a soft frown, “I think that’s enough for one night.”
No one argues as she rises from her seat to return the deck, but Owen, true to form, rises with her, following obediently. Elliot pays the tab before helping me into my jacket, and we wait patiently by the door for Elsie and Owen to come trailing back.
“Elsie and I can walk home,” I say as Elsie fusses with her coat.
She has a hard time getting the zipper all the way over her chest, but eventually she gives up, leaving it half zipped at the point just under her bust.
“No, I will take y—” Elliot begins to argue, but Elsie cuts in.
“Actually,” she says. “You two go ahead. We’re going to head back to Crescent House.”
“Seriously?”
The word escapes my mouth, and the accompanying look on my face must be unpleasant, because both Elsie and Elliot give me a pointed look.
“Oh,” I mutter, catching on quickly. “Okay. Sure.”
Elliot reels me in by the hand before, effectively silencing me, and I follow him blindly, though I still peek back at Elsie and Owen every few steps.
They’re standing close together now, his arms draped over her hips while she smiles softly, but I can’t help but gawk. After tonight, if there is one thing I’m certain of, it’s that Elsie Rosewater is not dating Owen McMahon.
“What the fuck was that?” I ask Elliot once we’re out of earshot.
“Hells if I know,” he says. “That’syourfriend.”
“She’s your friend too,” I snap as if that means he must share some of the blame for her strange behavior.
He shakes his head, handing me the helmet once we reach the bike.
“Yeah, but that’s yourbestfriend.”
I frown as I take it. It feels lighter than I remember, looks a bit smaller too.
“Is this new?” I ask.
“Yeah. I was hoping you’d stop whining about it if it fit better.”
“Hmmm.” I weigh the hollow plastic in my hands. “Probably not.”
Before he snatches the helmet back, I notice the word ‘princess’ is painted in hot pink across the back, and as he fits it on my head, I realize the inside is lined with satin.
Maybe I will stop whining after all.
