“Keep workshopping it. You’re onto something,” I called with my toothbrush hanging out of my mouth.
When I made it into the kitchen, my coffee was waiting for me—as were Hudson and Delilah, sitting atop barstools and staring at me expectantly.
“Jesus,” I muttered with an eyeroll as I reached for my coffee. “All right, all right. What are your questions?”
Hudson wore an oversized t-shirt featuring surrealist art, and Delilah was still in her matching pink pajama set, her blonde hair up in a butterfly clip.
Hudson raised a hand, and I nodded to him. “What in the fuck happened last night?”
“And did you text Mr. Hottie from the diner?” Delilah asked without being called on, clearly not understanding the student-teacher bit Hudson and I were doing.
I paused. Whathadhappened last night? I ran through the strange series of events, my blood running cold when I remembered what I had to do in order toascend.
Not in the mood for Hudson’s self-righteous lecturing, I decided to focus on other tidbits. “First of all, there were slave nuns.”
They both froze, and I basked in smug satisfaction. Even Hudson was on the road to being flabbergasted. Then, I went in for the kill.
“And a woman on a St. Andrew’s Cross was astral journeying and whispering to men in suits the future of the New York Stock Exchange.” I took another sip of my coffee.
Saying nothing, Hudson’s brows inched closer as I spoke, and Delilah’s head cocked slightly as they each digested what I was telling them.
“Oh, while coming. I forgot to mention she was coming.”
“Naturally,” Hudson finally said, though the humor was slow to meet his eyes. “Well… did they try to get you up on that cross?”
I snorted. “No.”
He shook his head, tsking. “Men in suits don’t need any more help amassing resources. We’re the ones who need our spirit guides to whisper investment advice. You’re telling me that non-corporeal entities aren’t at all concerned about the rapidly widening wealth inequality?”
Delilah nodded. “Yeah, Nova, get on up there! We need you to be our orgasming Robin Hood.”
Hudson laughed. “The people’s pillow princess.”
I rolled my eyes, but the joke was too good not to smile. “I am notgetting on up there.” I paused for another drink of coffee. “There is one thing I have to confess.”
They leaned over the counter. Inara jumped up with a trill, feeling left out.
“The man from the diner was at the orientation and last night’s soirée.”
Delilah gasped. “Say more.”
Hudson’s eyes flashed with concern.
“He didn’t follow me to the diner,” I said before Hudson could jump to that conclusion. “It was just a freaky fluke coincidence. He’s local.”
Hudson remained skeptical. “I don’t like that at all.”
“I do, but I don’t,” Delilah decided. “Idolike it because he was hot as fuck and sparks wereflying.We almost caught strays through the window.”
My gaze hardened. “Those were not chemistry sparks. They were sparks of suspicion and distrust.”
“Hmm,” Hudson said, studying me. “And let me guess: there were zero chemistry sparks between you two last night?”
Fuck, he was onto me. “Correct,” I said, because it didn’t matter whether we had chemistry. I could never fall for someone like Wes, and he’d already made it clear he could only offer friendship.
I explained more about the night and the promise of ascension from Jayne, still refusing to mention the sermon and potential hypnosis. I didn’t even want tothinkabout the choice I would need to make in six short days. Hudson raised his brows just like I had at Jayne’s condemnation of technology in favor of primal kinks.
Inara rubbed against me before placing her paws on my shoulder and playfully headbutting my face while probing for attention. We all stopped talking toawwat her and gush over what a sweet girl she was.
