Page 48 of Before Now

I glance at hers, screen up by mine and notifications rolling in.

She sighs and reaches for it. With her skin still pressed against mine, she unlocks it. The message thread opens as I look down. Xander. The wannabe boyfriend I watched stake a claim on her outside her apartment building. I know that because his last message is a selfie. No shirt, tongue out, spiked hair, and holding up devil horns with a lightning bolt painted over an eye—I’ll be your rock god, baby.

And the cocoon fucking disintegrates. We snap into our real timeline, and my jaw clenches. I sit back, my hands dropping away from her.

“He’s my roommate,” she says, dismissively.

“I know who he is, Remi.” I slide her off me, back to the other end of the bathtub, and I stand up with my phone.

“Foster?” she says as I slide open the glass panel. “Where are you?—”

“You were right. No one will touch you.”

I don’t look at her, stepping over the side, and I walk out without even wanting to.

Now she’s the true Remi. Remi Sinner. The one who fucking destroyed everything.

14

FOSTER

Before…

The third shotin twenty minutes goes down, and I’ve barely swallowed when Chase sets another next to my beer.

“This is what we’re doing?” I say over the club music. “Going the blackout route? Because I’d rather not?—”

He blows fucking glitter at me from his palm. “Fairy God Pirate of Halloween says quit your bitching.”

I hate everything about this moment, but I still crack a smile while glaring and shaking my head. “You are the fucking worst.”

The asshole winks at me, shoves the shot to my lips, and starts tipping. I catch it before it ends up everywhere and throw it back. Chase nods, like he seriously accomplished something. He takes his own before returning the tricorn hat to his head. I’ve opted for a red bandana tonight and a black mask over my eyes rather than an eyepatch like him, but we both have on black billowy shirts with undone laces at the tops, black jeans, and cuffed boots.

A lot more chest on display than the original look. But we have a lot more to give.

The pirate costumes became a given a long time ago. We wore different versions three years straight as little kids for trick-or-treating. After that, it was a joke, and by this point, it’s pirate or no costume at all. And Halloween in Prague with Chase requires a costume.

I get a reprieve from another shot when Chase plants a hand on the hilt of his fake sword and swaggers off into the crowd of monsters and skin. Fog covers the floor from machines and creeps up to our thighs, and I have to dodge a few LED spiderwebs. The DJ is decked out in a giant pumpkin head and currently playing theGhostbusterstheme blended with a techno beat.

I’ve pulled back on the nightlife the past few days. Shockingly, passing out every morning after drinking all night can lose its appeal to a twenty-one-year-old college dude. Not Chase—who almost seems to be going harder to make up for me. But I missed quiet. I missed exploring the city. I missed brooding over lyrics and strumming aimlessly, chasing what feels like magic.

It just so happens the spellwork lately includes auburn hair and a sexy voice and a restless desire to fill in the rest. The wandering often involves all that, too.

Tonight, though, I would have come out regardless of Chase threatening to knock me out and carry me out of the flat. Even if my pirate companion has twice now managed to find glitter somewhere.

I’m handed a green drink once we break through the throng of people. Chase is already downing his and on the move again toward three lifeguards, huddled off on the edge of the dance floor. He opens with an, “Arr, lasses, we’re here to plunder yer booties,” and maybe I needed one more shot.

The bikini-clad tourists fall for it hook, anchor, and cannonball, so he catches me around the neck and pulls me forward to join them. But rather than offering the chicks my sword, I’m playing up Chase tonight. Unlike him, I can fucking wingman.

“What’s your favorite part of Prague?” one of the two brunettes yells at me.

A wolf howl breaks into a house mix of Monster Mash while I tip my cup at my best friend. “Chase has taken me so many places. I can’t pick.”

She moves closer. To me. “Maybe you can show me a few.”

“Nah.” I scrunch up my face and clap Chase on the shoulder. “If you need a guide, he’s the better man.”

Chase chuckles, and then he slaps me on the back. “Foster’s just being shy. This sexy manlovesgiving tours to hot women. Especially of our flat.”

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