Chapter 21
Electra
Shock roots me to the threshold of the kitchen.
My pulse feels quiet, lost beneath the noise around me—the soft hum of the range hood, the clunk of a wooden spoon against the side of a pan, the lazy drone of an indie folk tune floating from the speakers above.
Have I stepped into some alternate version of my life, or is Cillian Lowry actually manning my stovetops while wearing the frilly green apron from Bloom’s Blooms kitchenware collection?
My presence must finally register, because he glances over his shoulder. And then he smiles as though this—him hanging out inside my home, cooking—is normal.
I shut my eyes, steeple my fingertips against my lids before slowly cracking them open again.
He’s still there.
This has to be some parallel universe, because he couldn’t have entered my apartment with Fiona’s remote. It only works on my garage door and private elevator.
“Who let you in? Mom or Callie?”
“Your mother. I asked her if I could surprise you with dinner. She was reluctant until Callie said you’d love it.”
No wonder my curly-haired bestie all but shoved me out of her family home. Panzanella, my ass.
I finally take a step forward and cautiously shut the door behind me. “Heard you had a cozy breakfast.”
“I don’t think your dad’s a fan of me.” Cillian presses his glasses up, then stirs whatever he has in a wide-rimmed pan before concentrating on me again.
My lips curl, just as they did in the lobby when I pictured him sitting down for breakfast with my parents. “Can you imagine if you were my real boyfriend?”
That dropkicks Cillian’s smile.
“Oh, come on… Don’t tell me you forgot that this”—I point between the two of us—“is only a means to an end?”
Guilt tugs at me for bringing this up while he’s been slaving over my stove to surprise me with dinner. But I can’t risk Cillian getting attached. Even if I can erase his memories, I can’t erase mine.
“Is it?” His tone is so pinched that it clamps down around my spine and echoes in my marrow.
I lick my lips, finding the courage to say, “You can bow out.”
“I’m aware.”
“You should bow out.”
“Why?”
Because you kicked my crush on Malachi out of my system. “Because things are serious between Mal and Ines, and he’s unfailingly faithful, so we’re just wasting each other’s time,” I lie.
To be fair, it might not be a lie at all. I’ve been so consumed by my imploding life that I’ve stopped looking into the matter of Malachi and Ines.
Cillian holds my stare, penetrating it in a way that makes me think he’s onto me.
“Don’t mistake this for an opportunity, because I’m not attracted to you.”
“Well, then, why are you so intent on pushing me away?”
I stream air out the side of my mouth.
“Consider this the dinner date I was hoping for. If you still want me gone afterward, I’ll bow out.” His irises gleam like quarters behind his lenses. “Unless you change your mind…”
“I won’t.”
He doesn’t speak, yet his stare lingers, unshakeable—he honestly thinks I’ll change my mind.
“I’m serious, but fine. We’ll have dinner. In how long will everything be ready?”
“Ten-fifteen minutes.”
That gives me ample time to grab a shower and a change of clothes. I walk past him, flooding the living room with lights with a flick of magic before sealing myself inside my bedroom.
For a heartbeat, I just stand there, panting like I’ve just crossed a marathon finish line. The guy is relentless. And delusional. So delusional.
On the way to my ensuite, I hop on my chat with Calanthe.
ME: I hate surprises.
CALLIE: No one actually hates a good surprise.
CALLIE: How cute is it that he wanted to cook for you?
ME: It’s not cute.
CALLIE: Fine. It’s not cute. It’s horrible. Disgusting. So mean.
I roll my eyes at her sarcastic comeback.
CALLIE: Babe, can you do me a favor? Can you at least TRY to enjoy yourself?
I pull off the clothes I’ve been wearing for far too many hours and spin on every spray nozzle in my giant shower.
ME: I’ll eat because I’m polite like that.
CALLIE: Fiona wants a rundown of the menu. She also wants to hear what happens off the menu, but I told her I didn’t think you’ll be game to share that part.
ME: Tell Fiona she’s one inappropriate demand away from getting deported back to her Loch.
CALLIE: She’s cackling.
Of course she is.
CALLIE: So…what did he cook?
ME: Don’t know. I went to shower.
CALLIE: Ah, look at you dolling yourself up.
ME: Electra has left this chat.
CALLIE: I love you!
I set my phone down without answering. When I glance at my reflection in the mirror, I find that my cheeks are pink and propped up with a smile. One that dies when my screen lights up with a new message.
MALACHI: Can we talk?
MALACHI: Elle?
I leave both messages on read until I’m washed and toweled dry.
ME: What do you want to talk about? Maleficent Ines? My meeting with my bio daddy? My poor taste in boyfriends? Your even poorer taste in women?
MALACHI: Elle…
I can just hear him sigh. I’m about to call a truce and suggest breakfast at my house tomorrow, when I get a cleverer idea. One that’ll remind Cillian why he and I could never be.
ME: Come now. I’m at home.
It feels like an eternity slips by before Malachi’s reply materializes on my screen.
MALACHI: Thank you for agreeing to see me.
As though refusing to see him was ever an option. Even if he and I never end up together, we’ll always be tied by our shared past.
My plan to dress ultra-casually is replaced by a far bolder one—one designed to test whether Malachi Hadez could ever see me as more.
I feel like I’m playing with fire. Who will it end up burning, though?