Chapter 23
twenty-three
EVEREST
“Ican’t stay in here just doing nothing,” I tell Cielo, who is sitting on the kitchen island drinking his third latte in a row. I can hear his happy hum from where I’m pacing. “I’m losing my mind!”
Cielo meets my frantic gaze. The pink jacket we bought him is sitting on his shoulders once more. He put it on as soon as he arrived back at Rathyn’s, and despite being stressed, I find it so fucking cute.
Just as I announce this, my phone buzzes. My fingers fumble with it as I desperately try to answer. Don’t know why I’m behaving like this. It’s not like Rathyn would call my cell phone. He’d just ring my brain until I answered.
“Zane!” I say, far too loudly. “Hello, friend.”
Zane is obviously as perplexed by my weird mood as I am, but then again, this whole fucking month has been a wild ride. “Uh, yeah. Hey.”
“Oh my god. It’s been forever. Do you want to meet up?” I ask a little too eagerly, and Zane huffs a laugh.
“I figured I’d need to grovel or some shit before you offered to hang out with me.”
“No. I mean, normally yes. You were an asshole, but also, I need a friend right now. I’m stressed the fuck out.”
His voice drops, and I can hear the concern lacing his words. “Why? What happened?”
“Ugh, such a long story. Want to meet at the gym? I’d love to work out some of this nervous energy.”
“Yeah, alright. I mean, I was just there, but I can go again.”
I’m moving before he can talk me out of it. “Yeah, cool. Be there in, like, twenty?”
Zane grunts and hangs up, leaving me to get ready in a rush. 888
Pulling on some athletic pants and a tank before shrugging on a jacket, I hop toward the door, my shoes still unlaced.
“Come on, Cielo. We’re going to go work out!”
He stares longingly at the espresso machine, but I grab on to his wrist and tug, pulling him out the door.
“We can get you one after. I promise.”
He sighs loudly, but follows me to the lobby where I hire a car, and it isn’t long before we’re driving down the street.
Rain is falling from the sky in massive sheets, and my body starts to shiver.
It’s partially from nerves, partially from the stress, and partially from getting soaked on the walk from the building to the car.
When we finally arrive at the gym, Zane is waiting by the door. He slips out when we approach and pulls me in for a gruff hug. He doesn’t even look at Cielo, which would normally bother me, but I’m so fucking stressed about Rathyn that I let it slide.
“Zane, this is Cielo. Cielo, this is my best friend—who is sometimes an asshole—Zane.”
“Ahhhhsssss,” Cielo says, and Zane makes a face at him.
“Who is this guy? You find a new monster or some shit?”
“No, dickbag. This is Rathyn’s…uh, co-worker.”
That makes Cielo’s eyes flick down to meet mine. I don’t want to say bodyguard because then Zane will get curious about things I’m not allowed to tell him.
It’s better this way.
“Cool. Whatever. There’s, uh, a few rowing machines open. Let’s grab one.”
I follow Zane inside, Cielo stepping to my side and following. His eyes take everything in, growing wider and wider as we move toward the front desk where Quilliyn stands. It’s almost like he’s never been in a gym before.
Quilliyn’s gaze flashes to Zane and then to Cielo. I see a flicker of awareness shift between them, and then they’re both speaking to one another in that humming, melodic language of theirs.
“What do you think they’re saying?” I ask Zane, who flushes red when Quilliyn’s eyes meet his, his voice lowering slightly.
It feels almost suggestive.
“No idea. And I honestly don’t give a shit,” he replies.
I huff a laugh just as Quilliyn and Cielo stop speaking, and we’re waved through.
By the time we find the rowers, they’re taken, and Zane mutters a bunch of curses under his breath.
“It’s fine. It’s fine. Let’s…I don’t know.” I sweep my hand around the building. “Let’s take that class.”
“Dude. It’s Zumba.”
“Yeah, so what?”
“I can’t fucking Zumba, and neither can you.” Then he sweeps his hand toward Cielo, “And I bet he can’t either. Dude looks like he’s all limbs and tail.”
I huff. “So what? I just need to fucking move for a bit. I can’t…” I run a hand through my hair and tug on it. “I’m going crazy.”
Zane’s gaze softens. “Yeah, alright. I guess you watching me try to do the moves will make you feel better.”
My lips quirk up. “Yeah, I think it will.”
Turns out watching Zane miss every step and curse each one is a balm for my nervous heart. It helps that Cielo gets each one right. He seems to be some kind of natural dancer, which only fuels Zane’s annoyance.
By the time we’re out of the class, Zane’s cheeks are flushed red, his chest heaving and his shirt slightly damp. “I fucking hate dancing.”
“Well, you suck at it.”
“You’re not much better.”
“Better than you,” I say and shove at him. He shoves me back, but it’s quickly stopped by Cielo, who steps between us, his gaze narrowed, his tail wrapping around my waist.
Zane rolls his eyes and nods toward the back of the gym where the smoothie and coffee cart sits. When I whisper this to Cielo, his eyes flash in excitement.
“Come on. My treat,” Zane says as we walk. “And I’ll even get whatever this guy wants. He deserves it after that hip roll.”
Cielo peers over at Zane, who refuses to meet his gaze. But honestly, it’s an improvement. At least he’s acknowledging that Cielo exists.
When we order our smoothies and Cielo orders an extra-large latte, we take a seat and wait for them to be made. Zane and I settle into some cold metal chairs as Cielo folds himself into a beanbag.
I bite back a laugh at the surprised noise he makes as he sinks all the way down into it. “Shouldn’t have sat there, dude. You won’t be able to get back up.”
His eyes are wide as he rolls from side to side, and the way he’s struggling even has Zane smirking.
“So, come on, tell me what’s up with you?” he asks.
“Nothing really.”
He gives me an epic side-eye. “Dude. You can’t tell me you’re in an exclusive dick-sucking arrangement with a monster and nothing’s new.”
He’s not wrong. The problem is, I’m not allowed to tell him even a fraction of the things I’ve seen. I hate it with every fiber of my being because while I’m head over heels for Rathyn and wouldn’t change a thing, Zane is my person.
He’s my family.
He’s been my ride or die since I can remember. He’s the sole reason I didn’t fall apart under the not-quite-tender loving care of my aunt and uncle.
“Things are…weird. Different,” I tell him. “Being…” I stop. I almost said being in love, and that is a problem. “Being Rathyn’s companion isn’t what I thought.”
Zane’s eyes narrow. “Has he hurt you?”
I almost choke on my next swallow. “Dude, no. I’m like a fucking pampered Pomeranian. It’s just…the Vyastil aren’t what I thought.”
“What does that mean?”
I can’t tell him that, either. But the more I’ve visited Erethar and the more Vyastil I’ve met, the more I’m starting to think their utopia isn’t exactly like they want us to believe.
The way they treat Cielo is suspicious as fuck. I haven’t even seen where he lives, and Rathyn obviously doesn’t mind having him around. He trusts him. But it’s obvious he doesn’t think much about him either, which I hate.
“I don’t know. We can talk about it later. I just—” My words are interrupted by a familiar voice, and I turn to see Dante from the sex shop striding over, looking hot as fuck in his Lycra, his pink hair braided down his back.
“Oh, hi there!” He’s not looking at me. His eyes are fixed on the Vyastil in the beanbag chair. “Cielo, right?” He lifts his hands and signs at the same time.
Cielo nods and responds with a flick of his wrist.
Then Dante turns his gaze toward Zane and me. “Hello. Nice to see you again.”
“Same.” I glance at Cielo, who’s watching us like a hawk. “Didn’t know you went here.”
Dante sighs. “Yeah, it’s a new thing. I’m trying to get into shape. For, you know, my health and extracurricular activities. My brother’s constantly giving me shit about my noodle arms, so…here I am.”
He peers over at Cielo and winks, making Cielo take a nervous sip of his latte, leaving a bit of frothed milk on his upper lip. I wonder if Cielo even knows Dante’s flirting with him. I wonder if he knows what kind of pleasure a Vyastil is capable of feeling.
I don’t imagine it’s more than Rathyn did, but then again, they come from very different worlds, and I haven’t asked.
Dante grins and leans down, brushing the foam mustache away with his thumb, making Cielo’s ears flutter, and his claws poke out. It destroys the paper cup he’s holding, and the latte immediately spills all over him, drenching his pink coat and covering his skin.
Dante lets out a huff of laughter as Cielo tries to catch it all, but it’s too late. The latte is gone, and he’s wearing it now.
“Aw, you poor thing,” Dante says as Cielo blinks up at him. “Come on. I’ll get you a towel.”
Cielo is staring at his coat with a devastated look on his face as he tries to wipe off the stains. He glances at me as if to say, “Help,” and makes a distressed noise.
“It’s okay,” Dante says and signs. “I know a great dry cleaner, and he’s right next door, so your coat won’t be ruined.”
Cielo stares. “Cleeeeen?”
“Clean,” Dante says, then shows him the sign for it. “I promise. You mind if I steal him?” he asks me.
I wave him off. “Go for it. He loves that thing.”
Dante grins. “He should.” He turns to face Cielo. “It looks amazing on you. We wouldn’t want it ruined.” Holding out a hand, he waits patiently for Cielo to decide if he’s going to get up or not.
After a short forever, Cielo sighs, then rolls to the side, falling onto all fours, and then pops up.
“There we go,” Dante says.
He’s still signing as he speaks, and I can see the way Cielo’s eyes follow. He’s clearly absorbing it all, which tells me I should probably learn more. I doubt Cielo will ever figure out a way to speak English, but if sign language helps him, I ought to brush up on my skills.