"Are you okay?" Nadia asked as we carried equipment from her van.
"I'm not big on churches."
"Because of your past?"
"Because of my everything." I hefted a folding table. "Pretty sure lightning's going to strike me down the second I walk in."
She laughed. Actually laughed. "Daemon, you're helping cater a christening. I think you're safe from divine retribution."
"You don't know that."
But she was already moving, coordinating with her staff. I set up chairs, arranged tables, and followed Nadia's directions, on edge the whole time.
"Sofia Ferrari!" An older woman's voice cut through the preparation chaos. "Is this your risotto?"
I turned to see a church matron grabbing a fork and helping herself to one of the dishes. Sofia appeared from the kitchen area, wiping her hands on a towel.
"That's Nadia's version," Sofia said, pride clear. "Better than mine, no?"
The matron's eyes narrowed. "You never shared this recipe with the church ladies."
"Because it's Nadia's recipe. She created it." Sofia's smile was pure mischief. "Perhaps you should ask her for it."
"I certainly will." The matron huffed before taking another bite, seemingly oblivious to the daggers Nadia was staring at her for digging in before the event had even started. "Though I still say you're holding out."
It was harmless. Friendly bickering between old women who'd known each other for decades. Nothing to worry about.
So why couldn't I relax?
The event went perfectly. The christening was apparently beautiful, and the food was excellent. Despite that, I was wound tighter than a spring, hyperaware of every small thing that could go wrong. A dropped fork. A guest who looked unhappy. A door opening too quickly.
"Daemon." Nadia appeared beside me during cleanup. "You've been tense all day. What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I wanted to make sure everything went smoothly."
"It went smoothly. You saw that, right?" She studied my face. "This isn't about the event, is it?"
"It's all good."
"No, it's not." She grabbed my arm. "Talk to me."
"Later. Let's finish up."
I saw the hurt flash across her face before she hid it. Saw when she decided not to push.
That should have relieved me. Instead, it made the guilt worse.
Back at my place that evening, the tension between us was thick enough to cut.
Nadia was quiet, moving around the small space, careful to keep a distance that said she was giving me room. Waiting for me to explain.
I should have talked to her. Should have told her what Tyler and Malakai said, admitted I was struggling, opened up about the fear eating at me.
Instead, I pulled her close and kissed her. Hadn't sex always solved my problems in the past?
She responded immediately, her body melting against mine. This I could do. This I understood. I could give myself over to the sensations and forget about my screwed-up life.
We made it to the alcove that held the bed, shedding clothes with desperate urgency, hands everywhere at once, mouths colliding like we were trying to erase something we couldn't name. I pressed her into me, crushing her against my chest, tasting her everywhere, feeling her shiver under my lips.
