Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Leo turns left out of the apartment complex and onto the two-lane highway, looking at ease with one hand on the top of the steering wheel and the other resting casually in his lap.
“How did you learn to drive?” I ask him. Because based on what Rime told me about Nàdar, I don’t think they have cars there. I’m not even sure they have electricity.
“I’ve been visiting your realm for years. It’s not easy to get around here if you don’t know how to drive.”
“But Rime said the fae almost never come here.”
“Most don’t.” He slows to a stop at a red light and turns to look at me. “But there’s a small group of us who do. It’s our job.”
So there’s a Nàdarian CIA? My jaw goes slack. “You’re a spy?”
When one corner of his mouth twitches, I have to fight the urge to slap a hand over it. Not because he’s laughing at me, but because there’s affection in his amusement, and affection is a feeling he’s not allowed to have.
“I’m not a spy, I’m an anthropologist.” The light turns green and he presses the gas. “And no, that’s not a euphemism. I really am a scholar and researcher.”
“You don’t have anything to research in Nàdar?”
“Plenty. But fae and humans are kin. We have a history of interacting with one another and with your world. We try to keep up with your current events, arts, literature, science—”
“Why?” From what I understand, the Nàdarians aren’t putting any of that knowledge to use.
Leo sighs and sucks in his cheeks. “There’s a lot we can learn from you.”
I get it. I’m not stupid. “You mean you can learn a lot about what not to do.”
He grips the wheel and remains silent.
“Is it that bad here? Are we humans that awful?” I know we can be, but so, apparently, can the fae.
“There are those who think so.”
Such a diplomatic reply. “Do you think so?”
His eyes cut from the road to lock with mine. “No.”
Burning under his gaze, I turn my attention to the trees flying past my window. Their bare branches reach feebly for the grey-green sky. Brown, patchy grass lines the shoulder of the road. It’s late February and all of nature looks tired. Even the ubiquitous squirrels are skinny and slow.
A thought occurs to me, bringing with it a rush of mortification. “So coming here for research—is that what you meant when you said you went to Oxford?”
“I do go to Oxford, all the time.” He looks away, ostensibly to gaze out his side window. “Just not as a student.”
Zander’s accusation rings in my head, You a senior? Junior? Grad student, maybe? Because I couldn’t find you registered here at Brownhill.
“Like how you’re not a student here?” I snap.
Leo has the grace to frown and turn almost as pink as me. If he weren’t glamoured right now, would that flush reach the tips of his pointed ears?
As if on cue, my phone rings from my bag in the backseat.
“Go ahead,” he bites out. “Answer it.”
No way. “I’m sure it’s Liv,” I lie.
He’s got a chokehold on the steering wheel. “You went to that ball with Zander.”
“Yes. As friends.”
I wait for him to snort at my naiveté. No one actually believes Zander and I could ever be friends. But Leo says nothing, his swallow tight and his eyes trained on the road ahead of us.
He has no right to be jealous, if that’s what he is. He’s probably just pissed off that, in the end, Zander won the fight. Why else would Leo make me promise not to go back to him?
All along, he was planning to break my heart.
We drive the rest of the way in silence. When he parks outside Newberry, I thank him for the ride and jump out of the car, declining his offer to help me carry my luggage to my room. Yeah, try explaining that one to Liv.
“I’ll let you know when we’re meeting tonight,” he says as I grab my bags from the backseat.
“Fine.” I slam the door and set off for my dorm, refusing to wave or look back.
To my dismay, Liv is already back from Asheville. She’s here, in our room—the room I obviously haven’t been in all night—fresh from the shower.
At the sound of the shutting door, she drops her comb and whips around. “Oh my god, Betts, where the hell have you been?”
I deposit my suitcase at the foot of my bed and slip out of my coat. “I was at Avery’s.” It’s disturbing how easily the lies come these days, but this one is particularly handy. How else was I to explain to Liv my absence the night I slept with Leo?
She looks like an anxious mother, hands on her hips and eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Why didn’t you just come home?”
“Because I didn’t want to be alone.”
“Newsflash!” She mimics blinking lights with her hands. “Your best friend was at the hotel with you. Why didn’t you go to her?”
“Because I didn’t want to ruin your night.” Her joy over Sweetheart was the highest peak on last night’s emotional rollercoaster, and I wanted her to linger there.
“Ruin my night? Betts, why would you even think that?”
I shrug, too tired and too near tears to explain. Instead, I heave my suitcase onto the bed and tell her, “I just needed to get away from Zander and think.”
“But you could’ve at least told me you were leaving. I was looking around for you for, like, an hour. I was in a total panic. Thank god Mia told me what happened.”
So I ended up spoiling some of Liv’s night, after all.
She goes back to combing her wet hair. “She said you were mad about the room switch.”
“Yeah, I was pretty pissed off.”
“I don’t get it. I mean, sure, it was a little presumptuous of him, but it was kinda sweet too, don’t you think?”
The hope in her voice grates on my every exhausted nerve. “No,” I say flatly. “Not with a guy as possessive as he is.”
“Hmm, well, I thought it was romantic.”
If she thinks that’s romance, no wonder she always turns a blind eye to the way Braden treats her. But who am I to school her on men? I’m drowning in a sea of my own bad judgment.
She watches me in the mirror. “You can’t be mad at him forever.”
“No,” I agree, unpacking my clothes. “I won’t be.” I’m sure I’ll eventually stop caring.
I unfold my blue dress, my cheeks catching on fire as I note how permeated it is with his cologne. I led him on—the way I danced with him, kissed him, put his hand on my thigh. I used him for comfort and familiarity. And, to his credit, he was everything I ever wanted him to be.
Until he wasn’t.
As I hang the dress to air, I pick up another scent.
Leo. Last night, he held me upright when I was flagging.
He scooped me up and carried me to his couch, and I slept there under one of his blankets, cocooned in his warm, earthy scent.
Comfort and familiarity in two very different but equally toxic men.
I frown at the dress. An air-out might not be enough to rid this light blue crepe of all my shame and confusion. I give it a wide berth and force a smile. “How was the rest of the ball?”
Liv brightens for a moment, then bites her lip. “Oh, it was good.”
Poor thing, she doesn’t know I can sense every one of her emotions. There’s no need for her to feel guilty for having fun. “Seriously, Liv, I’m fine. I want to know.” To encourage her, I grin. “All the juicy details.”
Hesitantly, she tells me about the drunken serenade the brothers gave her for being chosen next year’s Sweetheart. But before long, she’s beaming. “I think it was Cole’s idea. He’s a really good singer. Did you know that?”
“Cole? Well, there’s a surprise.”
While I transfer the dirty clothes from the suitcase to my laundry bag, she chatters about the line dances everyone did and how badly they did them. About Jenna spilling Long Island Iced Tea down her dress, and about Evan, a pledge, getting it on with some girl in the women’s bathroom.
“Getting it on, getting it on?”
Liv smirks. “Oh, yeah.”
“Why didn’t they just go up to their room?”
“Because she wasn’t his date.”
“Oh.” Well then, I guess the girl he came with had an even worse night than I did.
Liv gushes, “This morning I stuck around to help Mia and Jenna with the cleanup and stuff. They said it was ‘Sweetheart training.’”
“Smart. You’ll be in charge of next year’s formal.”
“Oh, I’m already thinking.” She taps a finger on her head. “I’ve got some great ideas for themes. What do you think of The Golden Age of Hollywood?”
“I think it’s fantastic,” I say. Because it is. And it’s the reason why Liv is the perfect choice for Sweetheart. “How was your night with Braden, by the way?”
“Good. Really good.” She flops onto her bed while I shove my empty suitcase under mine. “But, god, he was such a grump this morning. Poor baby. He’s so cute when he’s hungover.”
Dread pools in my empty stomach. If what Lara said is true, and Braden only took Liv to the ball to get me to go with Zander, then he no longer has a reason to stick with Liv. And every reason to be grumpy about her being Sweetheart.
Unable to fight my frown, I busy myself with my phone.
Liv asks, “Did you get Zander’s messages?”
I nod. “I was hoping you would tell him I got home safe.”
“I did. It’s just…” She scrunches up her face.
“I know.” I can picture him moping and pouting. And some of it probably wasn’t even fake.
“And god, Betts, Lara was like a… a vulture.”
I let out a slow breath. “She’s a disease.”
“For what it’s worth, he didn’t give in this time.”
I nod. What is there to say? Zander’s sex life is no longer my business.
“Have you had breakfast yet?” I ask, pocketing my phone and grabbing my keys.
“Yeah, the hotel had the buffet, remember?”
“Oh, that’s right.” The breakfast buffet I was supposed to enjoy in the afterglow with Zander. I clear my throat. “Well, I’m off to grab something to eat.”
“Betts,” Liv stalls me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah,” I say.
But we both know I’m lying.
On my way to the dining hall, a text comes through from Leo, but I seriously consider ignoring it.
Can you meet us at Avery’s at 4?
No, I can’t. I quit. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking, volunteering to help. It hurts too much.
But as if they have a will of their own, my fingers type, Sure.