Page 52 of Sold Rejected Mate
“Valerie,” Lachlan says, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. “My parents are…”
“I can handle it,” I say, reaching up and touching my new chicken earrings, which makes him laugh again. “How bad can it be?”
***
“Is that honey? For me?”
“You don’t have to act so excited,” I laugh, passing over the little bundle we put together at the market.
“Who’s acting?” Phina asks, taking me by the arm and pulling me inside. “Come on, Lachlan.”
At the same time, Xeran calls from the kitchen, “No loitering! Air’s on!”
“What a dad.” Phina rolls her eyes, her hand going to her belly. I track the movement, trying not to be too obvious about the spark of fear that flies through my stomach. Trepidation.
When I glance at Lachlan, he’s leaning down to look at the thermostat. “Sixty-eight?” he calls back to Xeran. “You’re trying to melt the ice caps, man.”
“Since when were you a climate activist?”
“Do you evenlivehere? Are youawareof the fires?”
“Hey.” Xeran appears in the doorway to the kitchen, a spatula in his hand. “Human fires are caused by that shit. Ours are different.”
Lachlan rolls his eyes and follows Xeran into the kitchen, and Phina and I listen for a moment as they launch into a debate about the real cause of the daemon fires. Lachlan says it’s obviously the energy—too hot and frenetic for this atmosphere—bursting up from any one of the various hells, while Xeran argues that the hells aren’t actuallyphysicallyin the earth—they’re more astro-independent than that.
“Gods,” Phina rolls her eyes, turning to the drink cart and pulling out a glass. “Don’t worry, it’s just a mocktail. But sometimes I need to pretend.”
“I’ll drink one with you,” I say, adding a little too hastily, “In solidarity.”
She eyes me, then grabs another glass, setting it on the cart.
“Perfect,” Phina says, mixing something that looks suspiciously like a mojito but smells like pure lime and mint. “Solidarity drinking is the best kind.”
We settle into the living room, the argument about daemon fire origin theories still echoing from the kitchen. The house feels lived-in in the best way—throw pillows actually thrown, books stacked on side tables, Nora’s art supplies scattered across the coffee table.
The guys emerge from the kitchen, Lachlan carrying a plate of what looks like gourmet sliders while Xeran follows with a bowl of truffle fries that smell incredible. We move to the dining table.
“Finally settled the daemon fire debate?” Phina asks, setting her drink down at a spot near the window.
“Agreed to disagree,” Xeran says, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Like civilized adults.”
“Sure, whatever you say,” Lachlan mutters, sitting down and brushing his hand over my thigh under the table.
I’ve been “on my period” for almost a week now, and I’ll have to give it up. My real fear is that he’s going to touch me and just know—the way I knew. That he’s going to figure it out before I can figure out how to tell him.
“Speaking of civilized adults,” Phina says, leaning forward, a grin spreading over her face.
“Phina,” Xeran warns, shaking his head, “don’t—”
“It’s not a big deal! I thought I’d just bring it up.”
“Bring what up?” Lachlan asks, glancing between them.
“Nothing,” Xeran says while Phina says, “I just thought you should know that Elle broke off her engagement.”
“Oh-kay,” I say, glancing at Lachlan. Xeran is giving Phina a look that saysDon’t push itwhile she cheekily takes a sip of her drink.
“What?” she sets the drink down, shrugging. “Their date is open at the winery. It’s beautiful, and if someone wanted a fall wedding near Silverville, you’d want it to be there. That place fills upyearsin advance—”
