Page 11 of The Succubus's Song

“You don’t know? I assumed Mara would’ve told you.” Finley sounded downright bashful.

“Nope.” Emmett popped the P sound and held the box of Walkers towards Finley in offering. “Even if she did, I’d want to get your version of the story too. You want to fill me in on some of those details, Romeo?”

“Don’t be a dick,” Finley complained, accepting a couple of the biscuits. Emmett was all warm smiles and cheeky laughter as he leaned back, putting his arms behind his head. He was the broadest man—wulver—that Finley had ever met, and he was a professional athlete. Sometimes it frightened him to think about what Emmett must’ve been like before he’d become…domesticated.

“Come on, I want to know.” Emmett pushed again.

“If I tell you,” Finley countered, “will you tell me what you and Mara just argued about?”

Emmett sobered and pretended to be shocked. “Finley McEwan! I’m proud of you. Look at that! You’re starting to sound like a fae with your bargains.” Emmett winked. “It’s a deal.”

“Ha!” Finley shouted in triumph, but Emmett was still grinning like a cat. Some of Finley’s enthusiasm slipped away, sensing that his victory was misplaced.

“I was going to tell you anyway.” Emmett held up his coffee cup in a mock salute. “Now, spill.”

Finley nodded, flexing his fingers a couple of times to expel some of his anxious energy. Ever since Lauren, his ability to cope with rejection had plummeted. It was one of the reasons he was especially nervous about his coach’s threats—he didn’t think he’d survive if he got pulled from the team. He wasn’t particularly thrilled about reliving his conversation with Mara at the Christmas party.

You’re such a goddamn fool, Finley’s intrusive thoughts chimed in. Emmett is going to laugh at you when you tell him.

Emmett must have sensed the shift in Finley’s demeanor and interrupted him. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, you know…” His voice trailed off.

Finley screwed his eyes shut and shook his head. “No, no. I just haven’t talked to anyone about it yet.”

“I’m friends with you both. I’m not going to judge,” Emmett reminded him softly. Finley was quiet for a moment and sighed.

“I know you won’t. Well,” he took a deep breath, “here it goes. When we were all at Calum’s house for the Christmas party a few months back… I asked Mara out.” The admission tumbled out of Finley. “And she said no.”

“Right,” Emmett echoed. “I assumed that much based off what you two were just talking about.”

“Yeah, but she told me that it had nothing to do with how she felt about me.” Finley sounded despondent. He wanted to give Mara space, but he still didn’t understand her reasoning. Thinking about it made him feel that he was in some way undeserving of her.

“Wait—she said what?” Emmett’s brow furrowed. He was looking at Finely like he had grown a second head. Finley nodded slowly, confused.

“She said she liked me,” Finley repeated with a small shrug, “but it wasn’t enough. That’s what she was referring to earlier. She’s obsessed with the idea that my feelings can’t possibly be genuine because she’s baobhan sith.”

Emmett had a very strange look on his face. He didn’t say anything for a few minutes, running his hand through his beard and munching through what remained of his packet of Walkers.

“But Mara said she liked you? Those words came out of her mouth?”

“Yes.” Finley grew more agitated. “I don’t understand why that’s the point of the story you’re getting hung up on.”

“Because…” Emmett shook his head slowly, “Mara didn’t consider me a friend for at least fifty years.” Finley’s brain short-circuited as he processed what Emmett was saying. Emmett was still looking at him like this was the last thing he had expected to come out of Finley’s mouth.

“Wait…really? You guys are so close.”

“We are,” Emmett nodded, “but it took a very long time for us to become so. I don’t think you realize how guarded she is because she’s never been that way with you.”

“I feel like she’s being pretty fucking guarded with me right now.” Finley couldn’t help but pout a little as he sank into his seat, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Ha.” Emmett’s laughter was sharp as he stood up. “You have no idea, my friend. Let’s get you outside and running it off. There’s some damp and abysmal Scottish spring weather that we could be enjoying right now.” He must have sensed how agitated the topic made Finley and was quick to brush it off, even though Emmett was the one who had pushed for answers.

Finley grinned, willing to leave the subject alone for now. They quickly picked up their bags, collected their gear—that had been momentarily forgotten when they discovered Mara in Emmett’s office that morning—and exited Emmett’s office.

Hey, hold on for a damn minute. They were nearly out of the library when Finley stopped.

He grabbed Emmett’s arm and pulled him behind a shelf, manhandling Emmett as much as he would allow. Finley shoved him up against the books, not caring when a few of them fell to the floor.

“Wait a minute.” His brow narrowed. “What did Mara say before she left? You said you would tell me!”

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