It’s fine.
We fall into step, heading toward the stadium. Our mystery challenge is at the rawball field until the charity game.
“Not a clue,” Thio says. The crowd pushes us together, our arms brushing as we walk.
His fingers stretch against mine.
He doesn’t take my hand, though. That would be—nope.
“You two are close?” Thio nods behind us.
To where Orok had his arm around my waist.
I stop in the middle of the sidewalk again. People pass us when Thio matches me, and I study his expression, bracing for accusation. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it’s usually what people jump to in regard to me and Orok.
But Thio looks… interested? Like he’s honestly curious.
“Yeah. We’re close,” I say, testing the waters. “We’ve known each other most of our lives. He’s important to me.”
Thio smiles, and it’s kind of sad. “You’re lucky. He seems to care about you a lot.”
They’ve only met twice, barely: once in the lab when Orok went to get my stuff, and once when Thio was doing the walk of shame out of our apartment.
Thio turns to resume heading up the sidewalk, but I grab his arm.
“Wait. What’s this?” I point at his face.
“What’s what?”
“This. This—coolness.You were jealous of a bartender I talked to for two point three seconds, but you aren’t jealous of Orok?”
Thio blinks. “I don’t get that vibe between you two.” His head cocks. “Should I?”
“Gods no.”
“Okay then.”
“You don’t think it’s weird?” I’m still bracing. Still… confused.
Most of my exes had some issue with Orok. His, too, with me. And a few hookups would either get squirrelly and duck out, or assume we were down for a three-way. Which,fuckno. And if it wasn’t that, it’s been weirdness from other people, like how Ivo and Crescentia assumed we were together.
But Thio looks at me with that bittersweet smile. He wars with himself, decides on something with a flicker of his lips. “Every friendship or relationship I’ve had has been fucked over by my family somehow. Fame seekers who wanted what the Touraels could do for them, or people my relatives planted to manipulate me, or friends bribed to leave because they weren’tgood enoughtoassociate with me. So to have the kind of friendship you have…” He shrugs, forlorn. “You’re lucky, like I said. To have someone you can count on.”
I’d been pissed at his family when he only had me to help him during his mom’s seizure. That anger surges to life again, and I include now all those assholes who could’ve been friends with him, could’ve had him in their lives, but chose Tourael fuckery.
For a second, we stare at each other, and all the crowds, the smells of fried festival treats, even the escaped basilisk we’re supposed to diligently watch out for—they vanish.
What would the fallout be if I kissed him here?
Why do Iwantto kiss him here? To claim him, now, in public.
To remind him that he’s not alone anymore.
I pause too long.
His weak smile hardens, then fragments.
“But whether or not I’m jealous doesn’t matter, does it?” he asks. “Since that’s not what this is between us. We only agreed to be physically exclusive.”
