Page 28 of Forbid Me

CHAPTER 19

Stella

From my spot on the riverboat, I watched Oz as he surveyed the other passengers. His gaze lingered on each person with a careful, calculated assessment. The thing about all of the other passengers was that they were all women.

It was happening again. My man was looking at other women to step out on me with.

I'd gone to the bathroom to check my appearance. Despite everything we'd just been through—the running, the coyotes, the mud—I looked damned good. Hell, even if I had been getting ready to go to the club with my girls and I'd walked in looking like how I looked in the bathroom mirror, it was clear; I was looking fierce.

Why couldn't he see that? What did I have to do to keep a man's gaze fixed on me? What good was my magic—my foresight, my tailoring, my touch-up abilities—if I couldn't keep a man's attention?

The Mississippi River flowed steadily beneath us. Its waters glinted in the late afternoon sunlight. The breeze carried the stench of water mixed with the faint odor of whatever magic was used in the motor. It smelled surprisingly like diesel, but there wasn't much of that ancient energy source left in this world. There certainly was little need for it when magic was an infinite source of power.

Even with the unpleasant smells, the setting was serene. The Mississippi River, vast and mighty, stretched out before us. The banks were lush with life. Trees lined the edges, their leaves whispering secrets to the breeze. Grass, foliage, and bushes crept toward the bank. It was as if nature itself was trying to get away from the land where all the people were.

Despite the serenity of the setting, a part of me remained on edge, watching Oz as his gaze ran up and down, over and around each and every woman on the boat. I tried to tell myself that he was just being vigilant, protecting us from potential threats. The small, insecure voice in my head had whispered nonsense in each of my past relationships. It was high time I tuned her out and listened to my own voice.

Problem was my voice sounded just as insecure.

I wished I could transform my body as effortlessly as I could mend a tear in fabric or style my hair with a simple magical gesture. What if I could just wave my hand and morph into a slimmer version of myself, more like all of these women Oz appeared so interested in? Would that make me more appealing? Would it prevent him from looking elsewhere?

Truth was, I'd walked this path before, molding myself to fit someone else's ideal, only to end up in pain, feeling a loss of my true self. This was my body, the one that had endured every trial, every moment of joy and sorrow. There was a hidden strength in these curves, a resilience that went beyond the physical. It was woven into my identity.

I knew the fault never lay with me or my body. It was always the men who chose to wander. It was never a flaw in my being.

I knew that. Every woman who had been cheated on knew that. Didn't change that gnawing feeling, that nagging voice in our heads.

As Oz's eyes moved from one woman to the next, that insecurity gripped me tighter. Tighter than the belt cinched around my waist to show off my bust line. Big girls like me looked best when we highlighted the skinniest portion of our waist, which was usually right under the boobs. Bringing attention to that spot formed the shape of an A from the top of the head on down to the feet. An added benefit of drawing the eye to the A-line was focusing on the boobs, which were my best asset.

Oz had barely glanced at my boobs earlier when he told me to go fix myself up. Men always looked at my boobs. Always.

The woman he was looking at now barely had an A-cup.

Maybe Oz was an ass man? But my ass was fabulous. That other woman's was flat as a fairy’s.

Not that all fairies had flat asses. Niamh had a killer backside. But she wasn't pure fairy, so she had more curves than those leafy leeches.

"Hi there."

I blinked to see that the fairy was standing in front of me, a tentative smile on her face. Glancing over, I saw that Oz had closed his eyes as he leaned back against his perch. Either the fairy was no threat, or she was coming to ask me about him. Everyone had seen me come on board with him. Then they'd seen me on his arm.

Did this fairy think we weren't together? Or maybe she didn't think I could hold on to him? Well, she was in for a rude awakening.

"I just wanted to tell you that I love your outfit."

My gaze narrowed at her. Was it going to be kindness killing? Well, two could play at that game. "Oh, thank you. I love your…"

And there she won this game. The woman was pretty much in rags. Her clothing was tattered and dirty. But she smelled like a bed of flowers. Of course she did, frigging fairy.

"I'm sure I look a mess. As soon as I saw that portal open, I ran for it. I've been through one before -a portal opening, I mean. I didn'twant to wait and see what came out. So I ran, and here I am, trying to put as much distance between me and it as possible."

The fairy shivered under the late afternoon sun. It was an involuntary body reaction. She was telling the truth. I knew when someone was lying to me. I just preferred to pretend I didn't know.

"It's magic."

"What magic?" She cocked her head in that way that fairies did. Suddenly I was missing Niamh. If she was with Tori, she would be fine. Even if she wasn't with Tori, she was smart enough to stay safe.

"Here, I can fix your top for you," I said, feeling a bit of transferred loyalty since my friend might be this fairy's kin.

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