Chapter 3 #2
There was a gigantic trampoline in my backyard.
A treadmill in my gym, along with a bunch of other equipment.
A hot tub next to my pool, indoors, to avoid the rain.
"What are my odds of drowning right now?" I wondered.
"Pretty high, probably."
"In a hot tub?"
"Lower.
That was good enough for me.
I tried to make it to my feet, and my eyes burned with tears.
There were magic-infused creams next to my sink, but I didn’t have time to put them on. I needed to be moving, or I was going to lose my shit.
Larson complained under his breath, but pulled me over his shoulder piggy-back style before trekking down the hallway. He knew where my pool was.
"Thanks," I said against his neck. "Don’t tell Niall about this."
"He’d kill me for having my hand on your ass anyway."
He wouldn’t, even if we had still been together. If it was anyone else, sure, but the brothers trusted each other implicitly. Niall also knew Larson had no interest in me.
When we got to the pool room, I saw a bikini hanging from a hook near the wall. I'd left it there about two years ago, so it wasn't clean. But if Niall was going to show up, I wasn't going to risk facing him in my birthday suit.
God knew I was always tempted to climb on his cock, whether or not I was fully clothed. The last thing I needed was nudity pushing me in that direction even harder.
When Larson set me down, he saw me looking at the bikini. "I’m not helping you into that. I have to draw the line somewhere."
"My feet aren’t that bad. I can put on a swimsuit."
"Thank fuck." Larson was already on his way to retrieve it for me, despite his announcement against it.
He handed it over. I managed to get my clothes off and my bikini on before I flopped unceremoniously into the hot tub, then turned the jets on.
They weren't as effective as actually moving my body was, but they were much better than nothing.
Larson ditched his pants and plopped down on the hot tub’s steps in his underwear, staring out in front of himself like he was questioning his entire life.
Same, man.
"So, what’s new?" he asked me after a few minutes. "Other than the possible fated mate who’s sexually uninterested in you and not willing to make a bargain?"
"I’m going to kill you," I said unenthusiastically.
He wasn’t wrong about the first part, unfortunately. I wasn't sure how he'd put it together, but considering I had shown up alone, it wasn't a stretch. I hadn’t tried to make a bargain with Jonah, but I didn't struggle to imagine him turning me down on that front, either.
"Rob and I hit our twenty-third anniversary last month," he said, changing the subject. We both knew his relationship was the safe zone, as far as conversation went. Mine was not. Past, or present.
"How are you guys not mated yet? You're obnoxiously adorable."
"Superior self-control and extreme guilt on my end about the constant rain, mostly," Larson drawled.
"Rob was always my favorite of the three of you," I said. "Where is he? Does he know we're doing this?"
"He's updating the wards way out in the Shadow District for the next few weeks. Unraveling this magic isn’t too dangerous, so he was fine with being left behind. He’ll spend the nights with me here, since I know you don't mind.
" Larson eyed me. "And we both know Rob's not your favorite.
You and Niall were basically glued together from the night you met. "
"If we’re fixing the spell for real, you can finally let yourself seal a bond," I said with a small smile "I’m happy for you. Do you have a date planned for the mating ceremony?"
"Of course. Your invitation is in one of my bags. I expect you to be my best man."
I laughed. "I’m sure your brother will love that."
"He hasn’t been warned yet, but he'll be on board if it means you're there."
I wanted to ask how Niall was, but didn’t want to open that can of worms. So, I just tipped my head back to avoid his gaze and tried to keep my throbbing feet from touching anything.
"For the record, he hasn’t dated anyone since you broke up," Larson said. "I don't think he's even looked at anyone like that, on the rare days he actually leaves his apartment or his studio."
There was no way in hell I could let myself imagine him dating someone else without losing my shit. "He’s free to fuck whoever he wants. I'm the one who dragged him around the city all the time. He's happiest when he doesn't leave his house and studio much."
"He's happiest with you. And I don’t think he’s fucked anyone."
"He’s probably just discreet about it."
"I don’t think so. I think he misses you."
"He doesn’t."
"He does, Liv. He's told me. And he hasn't been able to paint anything but you since you threw him out."
Niall was a professional painter. An incredible professional painter. He'd been famous for it long before my family and I established Rumor.
"I don’t want to talk about your brother," I said.
"We can talk about your alleged mate, instead."
"I don’t want to talk about him, either."
"How about the weather? Are you tired of the rain yet? I thought Callum was going to kill me the last time this spell didn’t work out, but I guess Niall was a better target. How he convinced your family to leave him alive, I don’t know."
"He let Niall live so you'd keep trying to fix the wards. You’d be hard-pressed to find someone who hates rain as much as a winter fae whose magic turns everything to ice. Callum’s been extra cold for the past hundred years, thanks to you."
"At least he has that pretty little werewolf to warm him up now."
"He’s infinitely happier," I agreed.
"I assumed he’d end up with someone more powerful, to be honest."
"Callum doesn’t need more magic, and he adores Kat. If you ever see them together, you’ll get it." I sighed. "I have to start moving again. My magic is freaking out."
"You need to fix your feet first."
"They’ll be fine."
They wouldn’t be. I just handled the pain better than I handled the anxiety my magic generated.
I pulled myself over the waterfall that separated the hot tub from the pool in truly uncoordinated fashion, and plopped down in the water.
The chill shocked me. My gasp sent bubbles floating up around my head.
With a little effort, I managed to get my face above water.
And ignore the burn in my eyes when my torn, blistered feet met the slightly rough pebbles coating the bottom of the pool.
It took everything I had to hold myself together while I slowly walked over to the lap lane on the far side of the room.
Swimming would help.
I hoped so, at least.