I nod.
Liv is halfway to the front door before she realizes I’m no longer with her. “Betts?” She spins around. “Oh god.”
Realizing he has mere seconds, Zander blurts, “I’m so sorry about the other night. You know, at the library. I was drunk and pissed off and I was totally out of line.”
All I can do is shake my head. I don’t know what to say. I never expected him to apologize.
Meanwhile, for all her shock, Liv isn’t trying very hard to get me away from him. She just stands there, mouth hanging open as she listens.
“Your arm.” He strokes just above my elbow. “Is it okay?”
I nod yet again, gulping.
“I’m so sorry, babe.”
My anger is draining out of me faster than air from a leaky tire. Zander’s touch is as gentle as Leo’s was when he was healing me. My brain tries to grapple with this irony, but it’s too scrambled with nerves and alcohol to make anything of it.
“All I wanted to do was warn you,” Zander says. “But I went about it the wrong way. I’m just worried he’s gonna end up hurting you.”
You don’t know the half of it.
I must’ve frowned because he takes my chin. “Did he? What happened?” There’s genuine concern in his bright blue eyes. In hisenergy. “Betts?—”
“Nothing. He’s just a friend. You don’t need to worry about it.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m not going to.” His hands slide around my waist.
“Zander—”
“I miss you.”
Why does he have to smell and feel so good? So safe and familiar? I notice Liv is smiling. I need to get away from him before she gets the wrong idea. BeforeIget the wrong idea. I start to pull away when, out of thin air, Jenna and Mia appear.
“Betts! Liv!” Mia greets us. “We didn’t know you were here.”
“Is Braden here too?” Liv asks, eyes way too wide and eager.
Mia winces, but Jenna answers quickly, “Uh, no. He left a little while ago.”
“Oh.” Liv’s face falls.
When Jenna notices Zander holding me, she snatches Liv’s hand. “Come dance with us.” They don’t give her time to refuse. She disappears with them, stumbling into the crowd.
Zander pulls me closer. When he speaks, his warm breath caresses my cheek. “The masquerade’s next weekend.”
“I know.”
“Will you still come with me?”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No. Come on, babe, please? I know you already have a dress.”
“But we broke up.”
“I know. Just as friends. Come on, everyone misses you. It’ll be fun.”
There’s something comforting about the thought of hanging out with the crew from O-Chi. They’re ordinary people, average college kids. No psychics. And no goddamned faeries.
