Chapter 22 Monroe #2
“Thank you.” I take my glass, holding the straw and swirling the water a few times, giving him a long, lingering stare before setting it between my lips. I sip slowly, ignoring the pinch in my ribs. His brows lift and the corner of his mouth kicks up into a mischievous smirk.
Tom’s definitely picking up what I’m putting down.
Before I know it, my glass is empty.
“Let me take that for you,” he offers, holding out a hand. He grabs my glass and wanders in the direction of the server walking around.
I don’t know why the first thing I do is glance at the wall, but when I do, Briar and the woman are gone. Did they leave together?
“Can you tell Tom I went outside to get some fresh air?” I ask Cherri. She nods as she dances with Skylar and another girl from our class.
Pushing through the crowd, I head up the stairs and exit The Velveteen Rose.
I peer around the corner. Maybe they’re heading toward the tunnel leading to The Nestling Fields?
Anger bubbles through my chest. Not sure why.
He can do whatever he wants. At least this clears up his new mate mark appearing after his two-week hiatus.
Maybe she’s also his mate. We did learn it’s possible to have more than one.
Good for him.
At least that alleviates the concern about our matching peonies. Mine is still out there, blissfully unaware he’s bound to me. It’s a bit dizzying how content I am with this development.
That is, until I spot Briar coming out of Novel Nibbles bookstore.
“Surprised to see you out here,” he says, walking over and leaning his elbow against the wall. The street lamps make the lavender of his irises even more striking than usual. Stupid mated eyes. I swallow thickly, trying to collect my thoughts. “Seemed like you were having a great time inside.”
The corner of his jaw ticks.
“I was—am.” Annoyance flares in my chest, so I cross my arms and stick out my chest. “You seemed to be as well. Where’s your friend?”
His brows lift, like he’s surprised I’ve caught on to the fact that she’s his mate. “She didn’t want to miss the last few acts for open mic night.”
“Didn’t care about catching them yourself?”
“Not tonight.” He mutters something under his breath and clamps his mouth shut. “Where’s Tom?”
I gesture toward the door. “He’s inside. In fact, I should probably get back before he starts to worry.”
Briar dips his head. “Of course. Don’t let me keep you.”
For some reason, my heels stay planted on the cobblestone, my gaze locked on his. The breeze curls between us, a blend of cocktails, sweet treats, and flora.
Briar tilts his head. “Is there something else, Dr. Tanner?”
Is there? I gnaw at my bottom lip.
“Briar,” a pouty feminine voice comes from behind him. She staggers and grips his neckline, peering at me from over his shoulder. “Oh, it’s you.”
It takes me a moment to register since she’s dressed in a flashy red minidress, but the evergreen skin, hot-pink eyes, and flaxen hair are far too memorable to not know who they belong to. “Nice to see you again, Radix Corrigan.”
She smiles down at me, and I’m suddenly another ten inches shorter.
Briar’s chin falls for a moment, then he turns toward her. “Done already?”
“Yeah.” She sighs, swaying a bit on her feet.
“Time to head home.” He peels her grip from his neckline, an inked bell disappearing from view as he loops an arm around her back. “Goodnight, Dr. Tanner. Stay out of trouble.”
“You too.” I toss out, more aggressively than intended. Without another glance, I grip the nose-shaped door handles and head back inside.
I beeline for Cherri, but when I ask about Tom, she says he never returned. While I’m slightly disappointed, I’m more annoyed at myself. Tonight was about having fun and letting loose. He’d seemed eager for that too.
Once we locate Roxy and Kendrick, we call it a night. My fists clench my skirt the entire walk home. I could really go for another bath, something to relax me and get rid of this tension pinned through my shoulders. I’m not even sure why it’s there.
“That was so much fun,” Cherri squeals, skipping ahead of us.
Roxy smiles. “We’ll have to do it again.”
“Definitely,” I agree, though my jaw barely moves.
We turn down the row, our cottage beckoning us in the distance. It’s too dark to make out its floral details, the ivy crawling across its face, but I have every inch memorized.
By the time we get inside, I’m fully ready to let my head melt into a pillow and pass out, but Kendrick steps in front of the staircase. “Roxy and I have something we wanted to talk to you both about.”
“Okay?” I look over at Cherri.
She shrugs, adjusting her bobby pins with a frown. She’s lost a few roses during our dancecapades. “That sounds ominous…”
“I promise it’s not.” Roxy brings us each a glass of sparkling rosé in flutes. Then she goes back and gets two more and hands one to Kendrick, nodding to him.
He clears his throat, and a grin spreads wide across his face. “We wanted to tell you both first before word gets out…”
“We’re mates!” Roxy squeals, the words bursting from her as I sputter my wine onto my top.
“Hell yeah you are!” Cherri lifts her glass and sips from it.
“That’s amazing!” I use the back of my hand to wipe the fizzy liquid from my chin.
“I’m so glad you think so.” Roxy’s eyes soften. “I know you’ve been having a rough go of it… Was a Radix able to do anything for you?”
“No.” I take a long sip. “But enough about that. Tonight’s about you. Congrats, you two!”
The edges of my lips stretch into a smile. It feels a bit wobbly, so I pull it taut, not wanting them to see anything but my pure joy over their excitement.
“Show us! Show us! Show us!” Cherri chants and sets down her glass to hold Roxy’s. I take Kendrick’s. The pair spins, and Kendrick’s suddenly shirtless. Roxy’s in a bra and pair of shorts.
An entwined lily and a bunch of four-leaf clovers curve over Roxy’s breastbone, and a large four-leaf clover with a lily bursting from its center takes up the left side of Kendrick’s chest.
“Aren’t they beautiful?” Roxy asks.
Cherri squeals and bounces on her toes. I nod and empty my glass.
“They really are stunning.” And the absolute certainty and devotion they share makes them all the more beautiful. “I’m so happy for you two.”
Bubbles flit down my throat, and I glance down at Kendrick’s empty flute clutched in my other hand. I must be parched.
“Yes! We are so excited for you guys.” Cherri throws her arms around them, hugging them tightly. When she pulls her head back, she’s misty-eyed. “Beyond jealous that you all got mates before me, but gosh, how incredible.”
Cherri continues fawning over the tattoos that seamlessly blend into the rest of their flourish marks. While she’s distracted, I set down the glasses, borrow her flute, and drain that one as well.
Roxy and Kendrick glance from the marks on their chests to each other.
This is their moment. They are so in love. So happy. And I’m thrilled for them. It’s been clear since I got here that something kindled between them. Like Cherri, I’m jealous. Only my envy stems from a completely different place.
Cherri’s flute wobbles against my fingers as I watch Roxy and Kendrick together. Fate gave them these marks, but they’d already chosen each other. I didn’t even get a chance to understand what mates were before I was paired off with one.
With a deep breath, I shove that thought away and focus on my friends, grabbing the rosé to refill the empty glasses. I hand everyone their pink bubbles and lift mine above our heads. “Cheers to you both.”
We clink our flutes together, and once the bottle’s been emptied from our celebrating, we all turn in.
Each floorboard quivers beneath my feet. I pace my room, a thorn prickling at the back of my mind.
Inhale for four… Hold for four… Release for four… Hold for four.
I can’t stop thinking about my roommates’ marks. How similar they were, yet each was unique…
My crop top tightens, a vise clutched around ribs. No matter how much I try to slow my breaths, I can’t. The waistband of my skirt squeezes the air from my body. Fingers shaking, I wriggle my nose and spin. Once, twice, three times for good measure.
I open my eyes to a loose flowy slip with a plunging V-neck.
“Oh my God.” My hands shake. It’s the first time I’ve dressed myself. I wish I could celebrate it, shout it to my roommates, but I can’t see them. Not now.
Swallowing thickly, I head into the bathroom, going straight for the mirror. In the reflection, the mate mark stares back at me. I trace the lines of my peony, recalling a matching one with a long stem entwined with it. Spots invade my vision, but I blink them away.
Bubbles burst in my belly. I shouldn’t have chugged those glasses of rosé. Gripping the sides of the sink, I slow my breaths, trying to rid myself of the nausea surging up my raw throat. But my hands—they won’t stop shaking.
Plink. Plink… Plink.
My vision blurs as tears explode against the porcelain.
When did I start crying?
I continue counting my inhales and exhales until my vision clears, snagging on the bounce of brilliant lavender by the windowsill. I slowly crane my chin toward the source.
A long stem spears up from the pot. It’s thick and hearty, nothing fragile about it, and dangling along its curved shoot are five familiar bells. They wobble back and forth, growing larger.
Foxglove.
My gaze falls back on the illustrated curve of them beneath my breast. Then I draw them in my imagination atop a taut slab of sage muscle.
Even though I haven’t seen it fully, I’m certain those foxgloves are the very same.
Mine. And the peony? The lush inky petals reaching for my heart. It belongs to him.
Inhale for four… Hold for four… Release for four… Hold for four.
I haven’t wanted to face this truth—done everything I could to avoid it. Now, all at once, I’m slammed by three realizations:
1. Briar Bloom is my mate.
2. He’s clearly unaware of that fact.
3. I need to keep it that way.