Instead, he spent that time learning how to fight and torture demons.
“Yeah, let him have his food,” Trevor agrees, stealing one of Chester’s mozzarella sticks. Chester looks aghast. “What? Sharing is caring, my man!”
Chester pulls the flimsy paper carton to his chest like a dragon hoarding its gold.“Mine,”he insists. “George gave them tome.I’ll share my fries, but I willnotshare my fried cheese.”
Sasha laughs, shaking her head. “All right. Obie, you’re up. Kyle, do you want to take his turn for him? We’re all failing miserably lately, so it’s not like you could make it any worse!”
“Ah,” Chester says, squinting suspiciously at the ball return. “No, thank you. I think I’ll stay over here where it’s safe.”
He keeps chatting with Sasha and Trevor as Obie strolls over to grab a bowling ball, making sure he doesn’t leave their twenty-foot range. Maggie walks along beside him, lowering her voice. “He’s not going to be safe for long,” she says, and Obie has just enough time to stiffen before she nods at the lane next to them. “It looks like the Thorne family just got wind that you brought a partner. They’re probably going to be accosting him any minute now.”
Obie snorts, his shoulders relaxing. “I warned him that everyone here is overly friendly. He’s prepared for a little bit of accosting.” Taking a deep breath, he strides forward, sweeps his arm in a practiced motion, and crosses his fingers as the bowling ball surges down the lane.
Two pins meet their demise. His second throw only manages to knock over one more, and he sighs as he steps away. “Let’s see if you can avenge us, Khan.”
“Doubtful, but I’ll do my best.” Once the pins are reset, she sends her ball spinning towards them with a snap of her wrist; it sailsdirectly into the gutter with a sadly familiar rumble. “Why did I let you convince me to take up this stupid sport, again?”
Obie pats her shoulder sympathetically. “Because we’re both gluttons for punishment, and also because of George’s boneless wings.”
“We do love George’s boneless wings,” Maggie agrees, her eyes drifting back to Chester. As predicted, he’s currently fielding ten thousand questions from the Thorne family, with Jill and Alex politely asking how long he and Obie have been dating while six-year-old Timmy enthusiastically tries to figure out if Chester and Obie have any kids he can play with. “So what’s the deal with Kyle?”
A flash of anxiety—and a hefty dose of guilt—churns through Obie. “What do you mean?”
Maggie arches an eyebrow. “I’ve known you for almost three thousand years, Obie. I’ve never seen you dateanyone,let alone introduce them to friends and family.”
“Aw, friends and family?” Obie says. “You really do love us.”
“You’re tolerable,” Maggie says bluntly. “You’re also avoiding the question.”
“Well, I’ve dated a bit over the millennia,” Obie says vaguely, trying to dodge the fact that “a bit” means “approximately twelve times in fifteen thousand years.” “But I’ve never seen much of a need for it. And humans are just so—sofleeting,you know? I mean, look at George. I first met him when he was a pimply teenager, and now, he walks with a cane. In another twenty years—” He cuts himself off. He doesn’t want to think about Nack Bar George dying. Doesn’t want to think aboutanyof his friends from Redwater Bowl dying. “I never wanted to put myself through that.”
“But Kyle is different?”
Crap. Obie really should’ve thought through the Boyfriend Kyle lore in more detail. “He’s…”
He’s a Sanctum interrogator. He’s probably cut open hundreds of ourbrethren. He’s angry and bitter and untrusting, and he has a chip on his shoulder as deep as the Deep itself, and he makes rash decisions and meddles with dangerous magic, and?—
And he’s kind. He’s helpful and smart and funny. He’s horribly traumatized and brainwashed, but he somehow hasn’t lost that spark in his soul yet. He loves his friends and misses his family. He just wants to do what’s right.
“He’s different,” Obie says at last. “He’s—he’s familiar, if that makes sense. Comfortable. I… enjoy spending time with him.”
Maggie stares at him. “That’s it?”
Obie squints back. “What were you expecting?”
“I don’t know,” Maggie says. “That he jumps out of planes to rescue puppies and moonlights as an exotic dancer, or something else that would justify you giving him those heart eyes.”
Obie sputters indignantly. “I amnotgiving him heart eyes!”
Maggie raises her eyebrows.
Obie throws a dubious look in Chester’s direction. “Am I?”
“Kind of, yeah.”
As Maggie walks back to the sitting area to wait for her next frame and Trevor strides up to the approach with a determined expression, Obie turns to where Chester is now being interrogated by Nathalie and Margot, who both look incredibly enthusiastic to meet Obie’s new partner.
Actually, most of the alley seems to be looking in their direction. Obie knows that gossip spreads through this place like wildfire, but he wasn’t expecting this level of attention just from bringing his fake boyfriend to Wednesday night league.
