Chapter Eighteen
Nick stared at the cabinet food, trying to look impressed.
“What do you think you’ll get?” Lydia asked from her place in line behind him, tapping her cane distractedly as they waited.
Nick pretended to think about it. “Something . . . cozy.”
Since Luna Musgrove’s cozy monsters rebrand, every item in the café had been imbued with coziness: muffins and scones and little cupcakes in the shape of various monsters.
It was cute. But other than the few things they got from Heath at Scales N’ Scones bakery, it didn’t taste great. All shine and no substance.
“I like the hot chocolate here,” Lydia offered. “They source it from Prickles.”
“Cool,” Nick said. “I’ll have to try it out.”
Lydia hummed. She’d been distracted all through book club tonight, clutching her cane too tight, and he’d seen her subtly massaging her knee. He wanted to ask her about it, but Vi had said she didn’t like to talk about her health, and Nick didn’t like to pry unless it was funny.
He twisted to look back at the others. Joshua, Suze, Rosie, and Vi were clustered around a small booth. Vi hadn’t been able to come to book club, but she met them outside the café afterward.
Nick felt himself smile. It was small and warm and he immediately tried to smother it. Then he looked over at Vi and saw her doing the same, lips twisting.
“Nick?” Lydia said. “It’s your turn.”
Nick turned. He was first in line. The minotaur behind the counter, Daisy, was waving at him.
He ordered and went over to the table, sitting in the cushioned seat in front of the booth.
“Told you he’d like it,” Rosie said smugly to Vi. “For such a big guy, his butt’s so bony.”
“Thanks for taking care of my bony butt, Rosie,” Nick said flatly.
Joshua looked up from fixing his hair over his horns. “What did you get?”
“The hot chocolate.”
“Good choice,” Joshua said brightly.
Rosie fixed him with a judging look. “He only says that because the coffee has really gone downhill. See that girl?”
Nick twisted to follow Rosie’s pointing finger. A twentysomething human cringed as she dipped a steam wand into a small silver jug of milk.
“Hazel’s new,” Joshua said defensively.
“Not that new,” Rosie mumbled.
Joshua gave Hazel a pitying look. “We keep asking Daisy to give Hazel a proper lesson on milk frothing, but she’s just not getting the hang of it. I’m sure she’ll do better soon. She will,” he added when Rosie made a dubious noise.
“Poor girl,” Suze said, drumming her scaly fingers on the table. “Emma has to fire her eventually.”
She didn’t sound very sad about it. She was shockingly peppy despite the tragic topics they’d discussed in book club. She’d been grinning when they talked about the mates dying.
Why are you smiling? Nick had asked her, incredulous. This shit rips your heart out!
Doesn’t it just, Suze had replied excitedly.
Daisy came down with their food. Muffins for the others, a bowl of whipped cream and a spoon for Rosie.
“Faes must indulge their sweet tooth,” Rosie advised them as she dug in. “Or our wings get weak. Right, Lydia?”
“Absolutely,” Lydia said with the confidence of someone who was happy to go along with a clear lie. “I recommend it to all my fae patients.”
“Gotta keep those wings good and strong,” Nick said. He turned to Suze. “So. What’s your damage?”
Suze popped a neat slice of muffin into her snout. “People don’t need damage to like sad books.”
Nick scoffed. “Sad books? Sure. This wasn’t a sad book, you maniac. This was tragic. I punched my pillow for five straight minutes after I finished it!”
“He was livid,” Vi added. “Called me up at midnight to yell about it.”
“Midnight?” Nick spluttered. “It was maybe ten p.m.”
“To me, that’s like midnight.”
They looked at each other. Nick knew she was thinking about everything that had happened after the call—Nick showing up at her house and eating her out until she cried, for one.
Nick licked his lips.
Vi smothered a laugh and stood, careful not to jostle Rosie in the booth next to her or Nick in his chair. “I need to go to the bathroom. Sorry,” she added as her hip scraped Nick’s elbow on her way out of the booth.
Nick shook his head. Her skirt was so soft and billowy. Like touching a cloud.
He looked back at the table and found everyone trading surprised looks.
“What?” Nick asked, heart suddenly pounding. Did they suspect? “Vi and I are friends now. You guys didn’t notice?”
“We noticed,” Rosie said, her expression far too knowing for his liking. “Heck, I heard you even volunteered to take Vi’s place on Wednesday’s quiz night. What a good friend.”
“It’s nice that she has someone to talk to,” Joshua said earnestly, digging into his muffin with a cake fork.
He’d grabbed one up at the counter, and from the looks of it, the others were regretting not doing the same.
This muffin was wet, overflowing with icing and cream and little brown sprinkles to mimic minotaur fur.
“It’s about time she has someone to talk to,” Suze muttered.
Nick frowned, oddly defensive. “What do you mean? Vi talks to people all the time.”
“Vi’s lovely,” Rosie said through a mouthful of whipped cream. “But none of us call her just to chat. I’ve tried, and every time, she has something to do.”
“She’s busy,” Nick protested. Then he frowned. “Wait, you told me to call her!”
“Well, yes, I was hoping talking about that book would jog something! Good to know it worked. Did the conversation turn to something other than books?”
“Nope,” Nick said, too fast. “Just books. We have a very book-y friendship. Most of our chats are about books, honestly.”
Lydia swiped a spoonful of whipped cream from Rosie’s bowl. Rosie smacked her in the wrist, then continued, “We just want her to open up a little. For someone who’s constantly talking to people, we don’t think she has many friends to confide in.”
Nick blinked, suddenly struck with a fuzzy memory of his own mother saying something just like that.
She didn’t say confide—Wickers would never say confide unless they were making fun of something—but he’d heard her say it when she thought he wasn’t listening.
So many boys to have fun with and no one to talk to about his troubles.
That was how she put it. He hadn’t thought about that in a long time.
Their drinks arrived. Nick chewed his complimentary Prickles treat that came with his hot chocolate, the table perfectly content to talk amongst themselves.
Just like book club. Everybody had their places, and Nick was on the outside yet again.
They’d pulled up a chair for him, but it would go away eventually.
The booth would remain. For all Nick tried to be charming, they would have just as good a time without him.
He could get up and walk out right then and no one would care.
Soft material brushed his elbow. Nick jerked.
“Sorry,” Vi said, squeezing past him to get into the booth. She sat down and took a sip of her latte. Her face twitched minutely. “Mmm.”
“Don’t mmmm,” Rosie said. “It’s terrible!”
“It’s fine,” said Joshua, looking regretfully into his own latte.
Vi looked over at Nick. “How’s your hot chocolate?”
Nick hadn’t actually tried it. He swallowed his chocolate and took a sip of his drink. It was sweet and rich and thin. The sugar made him shiver. He hadn’t eaten enough today. Orcs needed to eat a lot, and he’d barely had enough to satisfy a human.
He took another sip, the panic slowly fading. “’S good. That Daisy lady really knows her shit.”
Vi watched him with a strange look, almost curious. Like she’d noticed him spiraling like a weirdo because no one had talked to him for thirty seconds.
She leaned in, lowering her voice. “Suze said she thought you were going to get up and start shaking Rosie for saying that about the last chapter.”
Nick forced a snicker. “If she didn’t have that awesome bone cane, I would’ve.”
She smiled at him, small and real. And suddenly, everything was okay again.
* * *
Chester’s front porch was overflowing with birds.
Finches, jays, doves . . . All clamoring to peck at the multiple bird feeders hanging from the roof.
Some of them shuffled around the porch floor, eating seeds that had spilled over.
Nick had to step around them and even nudge a stubborn dove out of the way with his shoe to reach the front door.
He raised a hand to knock.
It flew open. Heath Astarot, the dragon who owned the Scales N’ Scones bakery, startled to a stop. He held an empty Tupperware container in his red, scaly hands.
Nick tried not to look panicked. Heath Astarot made his hate for the Baked Goods Bandit well-known, and every time Nick ran into him, he had the creeping feeling Heath would just know.
Nobody wanted to get on Heath’s bad side, especially after his wife left him recently.
The dragon was grumpy before that; now he could be downright terrifying.
Nick pointed at the container. “Those crumbs look cakey. Putting some meat on the old dragon’s bones?”
“Trying to.” Heath stretched his wings. “Bastard eats like a bird.”
“Bastard,” Nick agreed. It was a very satisfying word. Heath used to say it a lot in high school. Got more than a few detentions for it.
Nick started to relax. Heath didn’t seem like he was in a fiery mood. Maybe he could evade detection yet again, and Nick would never have to find out how Heath would react at finding out the Baked Goods Bandit was the annoying orc from high school.
Heath gave him a scrutinizing look. “So. What brings you here?”
“I have to have a reason to annoy local bookshop owners?” Nick shrugged. “Just dropping in. Making sure he’s okay.”
Heath raised his eyebrows. “Huh. That’s good of you.”
“Shit, man, don’t sound that surprised.”
Heath snorted. “Excuse the hell out of me for being surprised Nick Wicker took time out of his weekend to go visit an old man with a broken leg.”
Nick told himself he wasn’t stung. He was surprised, too. Everybody was.