Dorian winks at her. “Good to know.”
She laughs as we climb into the car and Atlas turns around in the passenger seat to face her. “I thought we already covered this?”
She shrugs. “You said it’d be pretty shitty to bang a fae chick in my one room apartment. But over here, where I know the fae aren’t taking advantage of you and we all have our own bedrooms?”
I continuously flick my eyes to the rearview mirror, gauging her reactions and trying to interpret the things that she isn’t saying.
Atlas’ tone softens. “Nah, once you go fae, you can’t go back.”
Her cheeks tint as she holds his gaze, refusing to look away despite her embarrassment. She opens her mouth to speak, and something possesses me to cut her off before she can, as if I don’t want to hear her rejection.
“Let’s stop trying to draw such harsh boundaries and see what happens, shall we? We should focus on getting all of the living arrangements worked out and organized. Dorian, why don’t you escort Cambria to work tonight while Atlas and I start moving his stuff over?”
Dorian’s eyes light up. “Ditch moving to go to a club? Don’t need to ask me twice.”
Chapter 11
Dorian
––––––––
“What do you mean, fired?” Cambria seethes, going toe to toe with her boss, despite the fact her head only reaches his shoulders.
He’s tall and slender with slicked back hair that screams ‘shady car salesman’, and clad in simple jeans with a white t-shirt. If she hadn't addressed him as such, I never would have imagined this douchebag owned his own car, let alone the whole club.
“You’re usually flighty, but these past weeks have been the last straw, Ria,” he reiterates. “You’re done. I put up with enough of your shit as it is, but I can’t have someone I can’t get ahold of either.”
“I told you, my phone broke,” she says through gritted teeth. “And Stella agreed to cover for me if there was a problem until I buy a new one next pay day.”
But the man has already dismissed her, grabbing his drink from Cy at the bar. The bartender looks at Cambria with pity, but doesn’t linger.
“You’re a pretty girl; I’m sure you can find someone to shack up with while you figure things out,” he tosses out without looking at her.
“You want me to whore myself out instead of working?” she snaps, fists balled in anger, and I’m not faring much better. “Do you even hear yourself?”
He finally turns to look at her over the rim of his glass. “Looks like you already are.” His eyes flick to me. “Between this one and the other two that have been hanging around while you’re on the clock, it looks to me you’ve already figured out what you’re good for.”
