Page 51 of The Fake Divination Offense
It’s killing me not to ask more. Not to demand to know what’s hurting him. It might not be Tem, butsomethingsure as hell is hurting him—he mentioned something with his family? My hands shake with a barely repressed quiver he has to feel where I hold his chin.
“Why?” he whispers. Not for the first time tonight.
I force a smile, force a lightness against the clawing, reawakened beast in my chest, the one now pacing and irately snarlingmine, mine, he’s threatened, and he’s mine.
“Because I think we could both use something in our lives that’sgood.”
Alexo stares up at me, eyes shining in the darkness, all those heavy, awful emotions now warring with a glimmer of hope. He’s a cut wildflower in a vase. A lightning bug in a mason jar. He’s something wild and beautiful confined.
I don’t know how long I’ll be able to hold myself back from figuring out what I need to do to set him free.
Alexo leans in, but doesn’t kiss me again, just tips forward until I match him and our foreheads rest together.
“Thank you,” he tells me. “For tonight. It was—” An airy chuckle. “One of the best nights I’ve had in a long time.”
“Breaking shit is soul balm,” I say, but he shakes his head.
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”
I go still.
He exhales, and I bask in him for this last moment, until he leans back. As he reaches for the door handle, I dig in my pocket.
“Hang on—take this.”
I hand him the unused vial of fireball potion.
Alexo’s teary eyes brighten. “Oh my gods. You—”
And he cackles, laughing so hard he doubles over.
I smile at his levity. “What? It’s good for protection. In case, ya know. Like a taser.”
Heloses it. “Ataser?”
“Kind of.”
“You’re basically—giving me—a bomb.” He punctuates his words with gasping breaths and more delirious giggles. “Abomb, Orok.”
Well, when he says it like that. “You don’t have to take it.”
I move to stick it back in my pocket.
“No,no.” Alexo snatches it from me. “Fuck that. It’s mine. You gave it to me. It’s just—most people giveflowers. Or chocolates or some shit. But this date started via stalking and attempted kidnapping and ended with you giving me anincendiary device.”
I snort. Distantly, I know I should be mortified, because that’s exactly what happened; every moment tonight was one prolonged cry for help. My therapist will have a brain bleed.
But Alexo’s laughter is still warm on the air and his cheeks are shining with happy tears, and I don’t regret any of it, if it brought us here.
“Can I walk you to your front door?” I ask. “Or would that be far too normal and cancel out the creepy vibes I’ve spent all evening painstakingly crafting?”
Alexo’s smile tempers. He bites his lower lip.
I know what that lip tastes like.
“This is enough,” he says softly and cracks open the car door. “Until next time?”
I bob my head. “Until next time.”
