“I have somewhere I need to swing by before we go to Elias’ game this evening.”
Yri drops his arm from her shoulders, watching her out of the corner of his eye as we walk. “I can head home so you two can have some one on one time if you want,” he offers and she turns to give him a strange look.
“You don’t want to go?” she asks.
I roll my eyes, already filled in from last week when he originally asked her out. “He’s giving you the opportunity to sneak out the bathroom window if the date’s going terribly, little dragon.”
She bursts out laughing, walking backwards so that she can see our faces, miraculously not smashing into anything. “We never developed our codeword, Ren. How shortsighted of us.”
Yri watches her warily.
“How about pineapple?”
Yri snorts. “Codeword, not safe word. Though I’m not opposed.”
“What if I wanted to order pineapple though?” Ezra objects. “Let’s go with the obvious ‘I’m not feeling well’ and pretend I need you to take me home? Then it’s an excuse instead of just a word.”
“Sure. How are you feeling this afternoon, Ezra?” I tease, enjoying Vyrian’s squirming.
She taps her finger on her lips, pretending to think hard on the matter. “A little hungry, but pretty good. You?”
Yri grins, mooning over the girl.
“Just peachy.” I wink.
We walk for nearly an hour. I ask Yri to shadow her and keep her occupied while I make a detour for my errand without prying eyes. I duck out of the shop and meet them in a nearby store, window shopping. I take a minute to appreciate that brief time before they notice my arrival, the one where I can just watch them joke around and be happy.
It’s terrifying.
I get where Caius was coming from originally, not wanting to get his hopes up. It’s one thing to know you’ll die alone and another to have someone like her, a shot at happiness, dangled in front of you just to have it ripped away.
“Get what you need?” she asks, running her fingers over damn near everything around her. She just can’t seem to stop herself, like it’s a borderline compulsion to feel every blanket, shirt, or knick knack.
I nod and she doesn’t pry any further, for which I’m grateful. She’s aware enough to realize if I wanted them to know, I wouldn’t have set off on my own to do it. I appreciate it more than I can say. She’s observant. Dangerous and fragile, guarded as well as all in. She’s a walking contradiction that’s the perfect balance and I admire the hell out of her for it.
We waste some more time just wandering around downtown before heading to the middle school, climbing into the stands and finding a seat in the front row. Vyrian and I flank either side of Ezra on the uncomfortable, metal bench, and she folds her arms over the rail, looking at home here.
“Triplets aren’t coming?” Yri asks, leaning beside her.
Ezra huffs in annoyance. “Never. Monday through Friday the two of us are always on our own. No games, no conferences, usually not even dinners. They haven’t even shown up to watch a Gauntlet since I won the third time. If it wasn’t for the weekends, I’d forget they even existed.”
I share a look with Vyrian. “They’ve been working that hard for years?”
She turns with a look of confusion before understanding dawns on her. “They can’t possibly have been stockpiling weapons and armor since then, right?”
I stay silent and the bars in front of her start to warp from the heat she’s giving off. “They better have a goddamn armory under the house.”
I don’t say anything since everything at this point is speculation. One thing’s for damn sure though. When Ezra isn’t around, the triplets and I are having a goddamn conversation. Secrets on top of secrets and even when they see how much they hurt her, they continue to keep them. If there’s something new going on that I’m unaware of, you can bet your ass I’m going to find out before it’s too late.
“Ezra,” a man says from behind us and we all turn at her name.
“Colton,” she replies curtly with a frown.
He narrows his eyes at me, posturing in an attempt to be intimidating. Not only does he miss the mark, but it’s painfully obvious to the men eavesdropping around us as they chuckle at his expense.
He scowls, swiping a hand over the back of his dark hair. “You never got the chance to give me an answer at practice.”
Now I’m the one glaring and it has a far better effect. “That’s an answer in itself, isn’t it?”
