Page 3 of Chasing Sparks

I end the call and shove the phone in my pocket. “What?” I ask, shrugging at Zane.

“Holy shit. The great Asher Hammond has fallen.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I’m serious. The first thing you do when you arrive here is call your girl? Damn.”

“I let her know I’m alive. She’s collecting our mail and watching over Black Lotus while we’re gone.”

“You sure that’s all it is,Little One?” Zane asks, barely able to contain his amusement.

I didn’t realize he heard my pet name for Ori. Apparently, he heard every word.

“Leave him alone,” Braden interjects. “Looks like it will just be the two of us playing with the bunnies this year.”

“I’ll be there,” I insist, my gaze volleying between them.

“Sure you will,” they reply in stereo.

So glad they’re enjoying this torture.

With a roll of my eyes, I push myself to a standing position. “I’ll be back. I saw a vendor at the entrance that I want to check out.”

What I need is to get out of this uncomfortable conversation and the implications they seem intent on making about Ori and me.

There is no Ori and me. We’re just friends with the best damn benefits on the planet.

End of story.

Does that mean I’ll take advantage of our status to sleep with some gorgeous, nameless women this year?

After hearing her voice, we all know the answer to that one, but it’s not because I’m notfreeto do so.

I’m just not feeling it this time.

I stroll to a booth by the entrance of the convention center, run by a husband and wife duo who create tattoo designed book covers for the classics—a brilliant idea that I might have to put into play at Black Lotus.

Hell, Ori and I could team up, with me creating the covers and her selling them in One More Page.

Teamwork and all that jazz.

But that’s not why I’m here now.

Ori’s favorite book isJane Eyre, which she divulged during our first night together. The woman is a diehard romantic, especially with the concept of true love overcoming all. She stands in direct opposition to my fierce beliefs about happily ever after.

But this isn’t for me. It’s for her, a token of appreciation for helping my dreams come true.

This booth has a copy of Jane Eyre, and it’s exquisitely crafted, too. The dark color palette highlights a portrait of Jane in the center, with the gothic spires of Thornfield Manor behind her.

It’s a perfect addition to Ori’s collection of classics.

I grab my purchase and receipt before returning to our booth, thrilled I snagged a copy before they sold out.

But that happiness is short-lived becausesomethingis different, and I detect it the moment I step back into Black Lotus’s booth.

My brother, so happy-go-lucky not ten minutes earlier, now wears a petulant scowl.

“What’s the matter? Did something break?” I ask, glancing around the booth.

---