His grin flashed teeth, but he didn’t respond.
They stared at each other in silent challenge for another minute or so until Meph suddenly sprang upright. He leapt to his feet with the kind of morning-person energy that had always irritated her. “All right, I’m outtie. The studio calls.”
She sat up too. “What studio?”
His eyes flared briefly, and she knew immediately he hadn’t meant to let that slip. “Nothing. Just hanging with Mom.”
“Mom?”
“Eva’s mom,” he clarified like it was obvious, but she swore he was blushing. He snatched his clothes up from the pile on the floor and then fled to the bathroom.
She sat there while the shower turned on, wondering what he was hiding. Then, she shrugged. Wasn’t that the benefit of this arrangement? That they could fuck like crazy and not have to know everything about each other’s lives?
So he had some weird secret with Eva’s mom. Good for him. She didn’t need to know the details, and she definitely didn’t need to get involved.
She had her own shit to deal with, starting with helping Lily research Mist’s brands at the coven library while simultaneously finding a way to distance herself without arousing suspicion. Oh, and she had to figure out how to train a hellhound puppy that was going to be the size of a pony.
The water turned off, and she heard Meph heading toward the front door. Damn, he was fast. “Uh, Iris?” he called.
“Yeah?”
“I think Faust pissed on the floor.”
She groaned and flopped back on the bed. Great. Just great. She couldn’t even blame Faust for it this time. She’d been too busy getting railed to remember her poor puppy’s bathroom needs.
“And I think he ate the other pillow off your couch.”
“Motherfucker!”
“Later, dollface!” The front door slammed.
9 Bonus Chapter
CUNNING LINGUISTS
DO YOU THINK SOME PEOPLE ARE PREDESTINED TOsuffer, and they’re born tougher because of it?” Iris asked, taking a final puff of the joint in her hand before passing it. It was a bit of a loaded topic, but she’d gotten used to their surprisingly deep conversations over the last two weeks.
Meph stretched out a tattooed hand and took the joint, taking a long drag. He blew out a cloud of smoke that mingled with the condensed clouds of their breath in the freezing air. They sat on her balcony, on rickety patio chairs, a rusted metal table between them with an overflowing ashtray in the center.
Evidence of her recent failures to quit.
She’d tried, damn it, but it was impossible when she was with him. Every time they were together—almost every night since they’d begun their liaisons—he would declare he was going out for a smoke and then offer her one. Every time she caved like an idiot.
It was snowing again. It had snowed the last three days in a row, but Iris didn’t mind. The snow was what made winter tolerable. That fresh white powder never stopped being beautiful.
Meph didn’t rush to reply, and she wasn’t in a hurry to hear his response. The night was calm, and the weed was taking the edge off her usual high-strung state of being. She was happy just to sit and breathe in the stillness. Listen to the quiet, muffled sound of winter. Stare at the back alley below, carved with icy tire tracks. Watch the drifting white flakes beneath the flickering streetlamp.
When he did reply, however, it wasn’t exactly worth the wait.
“You think about the weirdest shit, Iris.”
She scowled at him. “Sorry your feeble mind can’t keep up with my superior intellect, shit-for-brains.”
He laughed. “Ouch. That hurt, honestly. I don’t know why I put up with you.”
“You put up with me because I’m hot and we have fantastic sex,” she replied haughtily.
“That we do, doll face. That we do.”
