Page 35 of Wild Card 13

Absolutely not.

“Marlene,” I warned.

“Who’s this?” she asked with the kind of smile that meant my public execution had already been scheduled.

Lucy looked briefly caught off guard before offering a polite smile. “Lucy.”

Marlene’s eyebrows lifted slightly. She looked back at me. And started grinning.

I realized the problem immediately.

“No,” I said instantly.

“Oh my God,” Marlene breathed. “You brought a Lucy here?”

Lucy blinked once beside me.

Then her eyes widened. Then she started laughing so hard she physically had to grab my arm for balance.

Traitor.

“This is the funniest thing that’s ever happened to you,” Marlene informed me.

“I hate everybody here.”

“You brought a girl named Lucy to get a Jucy Lucy.”

“I’m aware of the situation.”

Lucy busted out laughing beside me, cheeks pink from cold and amusement while she buried part of her face behind her scarf trying unsuccessfully to recover.

And honestly?

Seeing her laugh that hard because of me hit somewhere deep in my chest in a way I didn’t fully understand.

Marlene pointed toward a booth near the back. “Sit down before I tell the entire building.”

“She absolutely will too,” I muttered to Lucy as we slid into the booth.

“I can’t believe this wasn’t intentional.”

“It wasn’t.”

“That somehow makes it worse.”

Warm light glowed softly above the booth while snow drifted outside the front windows in lazy white streaks against the darkening street beyond.

Lucy pulled off her coat and folded it beside her carefully before looking around the bar again.

Her eyes moved slowly over everything. She wasn’t judging any of it. She was trying to understand why I loved it.

“This place matters to you,” she said softly.

The noise of the bar hummed quietly around us. Somebody laughed near the front windows. The flat-top hissed behind the counter while Marlene yelled an order toward the kitchen without looking up from the register. A group of older guys near the TV argued about the Frosthawks’ defensive pairing choices with the seriousness of men debating international policy.

Matt’s had looked exactly like this for longer than I’d been alive.

And somehow sitting here across from Lucy made the whole place feel different.