Chapter 18
DINERS, DRIVE-INS, AND DEAD HUSBANDS
ALICE
Jessa picks me up in her beat-up truck, sans Harley, and drives us to a diner a town away. It’s one of those places with chrome outfitting and a neon sign that’s open twenty-four seven.
The red pleather cushions stick to my thighs as I slide into the booth across from Jessa, picking up the menu that the waitress dropped on the table.
There are too many choices packed onto the laminated cardstock—do I go classic burger and shake, or do I get breakfast because diner home fries can’t be beat?
Soon enough my knee starts bouncing with my indecision.
“I’m glad you texted,” Jessa says.
I glance up from my menu. Jessa’s staring at me, her own menu discarded by the salt and pepper shakers. Freshly showered, she lacks the sharp makeup she normally paints onto her eyes and lips. It softens her disposition, though her angled cheeks could still cut diamonds.
“Yeah?” I ask.
“Mhm,” Jessa hums, tucking her damp hair behind her ears. “I mean I figured you’d ask me out eventually…” The teasing lift of her brows pulls silent laughter from my chest. “What more do you want to know, Trouble?” she presses, gently tugging the menu from my hands. “Lay it on me.”
“I want to help. But I need to understand how dangerous it’s going to be to go against Maven.” I tuck my hands under my thighs, knee still bouncing. “Harley said she killed Ori’s parents.”
Jessa sucks in a deep breath and releases it slow.
“More than I’d like it to be. Under any other circumstance I wouldn’t ask someone with little to no training to participate in this, but magic binds the participants.
Only you and Ori can compete in the tourney.
” I nod, and she continues. “No matter which trials occur in the tourney, I expect Maven to attempt sabotage or try to harm you. But I’ll protect you outside the arena, and Ori will protect you inside of it.
That’s his job. It’s what he’s made for. ”
Implied obligation drips from her words. But it’s hard to fully believe that the Ori I’ve interacted with has some kind of natural instinct to care for me buried in his chest.
“Why hasn’t he asked me to help himself?” I ask. “He shouldn’t make you two do everything. Isn’t he the one who’s going to rule if this works out in your favor?”
Jessa grimaces. “He’s been… busy.”
It’s a cop-out answer, but the waitress conveniently takes that moment to drop off water and ask us for our order. My knee stills, and I panic, not having decided on which milkshake flavor I want, let alone what food.
“We’ll have two of the cheeseburgers, no tomato. A strawberry milkshake and a chocolate one. Oh, and waffle fries instead of regular,” Jessa says.
I gape, and Jessa shrugs as the waitress jots everything down.
“How did you know what I’d end up ordering?” I ask once the waitress is out of earshot.
“You always ask for no tomato anytime you get a panini at Mad Mug,” Jessa says, lifting her water to her lips.
Condensation drips off the plastic cup, forming a puddle on the table.
“And you have a thing for chocolate. Mochas when you don’t order a cappuccino.
Chocolate croissants over the almond ones. ”
My pulse hammers in my neck as I grab a napkin from the dispenser and swipe the pooled water away.
I’m not entirely surprised she noticed all that from the few times I’d patroned her café; Jessa is clearly the attentive type.
It’s only the confidence in which she states these facts about me that sends me reeling.
I fold the napkin and motion for Jessa to use it as a coaster. Her lips twitch, amused, as I nervously do the same to my water.
“Speaking of Ori,” I say, deciding now’s as good a time as any to ask my burning question. “Does it bother you that Harley wants a relationship with him?”
“Do you think it bothers me that Harley wants one with you?” she counters.
My brows furrow as I lean forward, my voice dropping low. “You’ve made it clear it’s the exact opposite.”
“Then why should it bother me that Harley wants him too?”
“Because… I don’t know.”
“Here’s the thing, Alice. You don’t remember what they were like as kids.
And you don’t know what they were like as teens or even what they were like five years ago.
Those two have been a long time coming. All Ori’s got to do is pull his head out of his ass.
” Jessa steeples her fingers together and rests her chin atop them.
“Dynamics like this aren’t uncommon in Arcadia.
Shifters are more open than humans with their sexuality and don’t shy away from pack life.
We do what works for us. And it doesn’t bother me to share you or him, as long as I trust the person I’m sharing you with. ”
“So, you don’t care if Harley’s with Ori. But you don’t want to be with Ori?” I clarify, trying to wrap my head around the relationship.
She makes a gagging noise. “Absolutely not. Love him like a brother though.”
I fall back against the booth, and all the air deflates from my lungs. It was one thing to consider dating two people who liked each other and who both liked me. But could I handle adding another person in the mix—one who actively makes my blood boil whenever I’m in their presence?
My tongue goes dry, and I grab my water.
“You’re asking a lot about our dear Heir,” Jessa leads, tongue running along her teeth with devious intent. “You develop a crush after Ori helped you out of the woods, Trouble? Big strong prince, swooping in to save the day.”
My gasp sucks liquid down the wrong pipe, and I choke, falling into a coughing fit at the suggestion.
“Oh, goodness, are you okay?” The waitress appears with a platter of our food.
I shoot her a thumbs up, covering my mouth with my other hand as I continue to cough. My face is surely red, but thankfully the tickling sensation at the back of my throat clears by the time she finishes depositing our burgers, shakes, and fries on the table.
“Anything else I can get you two?” she asks.
“Nope, we’re all good,” Jessa chirps, and the waitress disappears through the two-way doors of the kitchen. Then to me, she asks, “Are you sure you’re good?”
“I’m fine.” I clear my throat. “Also, for the record, it didn’t go down like that.
I would have found my way back to the Meadow eventually.
” I take a sip of water—not choking this time.
“And I have not developed feelings for a man who I’ve only met twice.
I only have crushes on you and Harley and that’s more than enough for me. ”
Fuck. That was corny.
Jessa grins wide, canines poking into her lower lip. She spares me from more teasing, pushing the basket of fries towards me. “Eat, Alice. Before they get cold.”
I grab one and shove it in my mouth. Crispy and salty and warm, I hum, grabbing another. “Fuck, these are delicious.”
“Best in the area,” Jessa says. “Dip it in your shake.”
I do, and I moan a curse at how perfect the combination is. Jessa laughs, and we fall into easy conversation as we dig into our burgers.
It takes a special kind of person to not get whiplash from the way I popcorn between topics, so I’m thankful that Jessa follows my lead. From magic to relationships to summer beach plans to crazy tourists at her shop, it flows without interruption.
At some point, though, as I dunk the last fry in the squirt of ketchup we’ve been sharing, laughing at one of Jessa’s jokes, guilt slithers between my ribs.
Nothing in particular triggers it; it simply appears.
Grief is a notorious assassin; it comes in for the kill without a whisper of notice.
I pull my phone out of my back pocket and type out a quick message to Harley. Luckily, he’s quick to respond.
You’ve told Jessa about Ryan, right?
What? No.
HARLEY
No, I wouldn’t tell her about that.
HARLEY
My thumbs freeze midair. He… didn’t tell her?
“Who’s texting?” Jessa asks. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just Harley,” I mutter, gaze trained on my phone.
“He was upset he couldn’t come tonight. He’s covering for one of the other librarians who had a family emergency,” she says, but I’m focused on typing out a response.
I assumed you told each other everything.
We do.
HARLEY
But I figured you’d want to tell her in your own time… was I wrong? Do you want me to talk to her about it for you?
HARLEY
“You need to know something,” I blurt out, slamming my phone on the table. I’m overwhelmed with the need to rip this bandage off quick. “I was married. His name was Ryan. And he died, two years ago. And that’s the real reason why I moved out here. I needed a fresh start.”
I grab my milkshake, the cold glass freezing my palm, and take a few brain-splitting gulps. The roof of my mouth freezes, and I squeeze my eyes shut at the pain.
When they open, and Jessa comes back into focus, I note the shock paling her features. A fry dangles from her mouth, pinched between her perfectly white teeth.
We stare at each other, and I hold my breath as I wait for her response.
The diner bustles around us: glasses clink, forks and knives scrape along ceramic plates, teenagers howl laughter from the corner booth.
Jessa’s attention slowly dips to my chest, understanding flaring as she takes in my necklace.
The platinum bands are cold against my flushed skin.
Jessa pops the rest of the fry between her lips, licks the salt from her fingers, and wipes them on a napkin.
“I…” she starts, stops, and sighs. She stares at the crumbled napkin in her hand for a moment, then lifts her head. “Are you okay?”
Breath finally fills my lungs. There isn’t pity in her gaze, only concern. It pulls her usually smirking lips down, swipes a line between her brows. My head bobbles with the swell of emotion that hits me.
“Not really. But I haven’t been okay in a long time,” I admit.
“I’ve been lonely.” My voice cracks, and I grab my shake again, sucking until the straw only pulls chocolate-flavored air to my tongue.
Jessa’s quiet, allowing me the space to continue.
“I don’t want to be alone anymore, Jessa. And I want to help you.”
Hope sparks in her golden irises, even as the rest of her face shows her solemn understanding.
“Are you sure?” she asks. It’s not just a question about the tourney, but if I’m sure about them too.
“You guys are the first people I’ve felt comfortable with since he died.”
Jessa nods to herself, as if she’s jotting down a to-do list in her head. “Then we need to start training as soon as possible. The tourney is on your birthday.” A hint of a smile crinkles the edges of her eyes. “Fair warning, I’ve been told I’m a bit of a drill sergeant.”