***
Hours later, Zoe practically drags me into Vee. She insisted that I had to get dressed up for tonight. I’d half-seriously considered scorching her in retaliation when she threw a dress I’d long since forgotten I owned at me when we’d finished unpacking.
She spots Riley and Eirwen quickly, waving at them where they sit in one of the many booths that line the dance floor.
I step towards them only for Zoe to pull me by the arm in the other direction. “We need drinks.”
Obediently, I follow after Zoe, only stopping when we reach the bar. It’s busy in here tonight, full of supes and I’m nervous to be so close to so many people. I can feel their bodies against mine as we crowd around the bar.
Muttering under my breath “I will not burn them,” I focus all my energy on keeping my skin cool.
“What would you like?” Zoe’s words break through my concentration and I feel someone flinch away from me, letting out a quiet ouch.
“She’ll have a beer.”
My eyes turn to the man who answered Zoe. His eyes are a vibrant green and my breath catches in my throat. He gives me a cheeky grin and I know instinctively that he’s someone I need to stay away from.
He could easily distract me from the championship.
“Is that right, Holden? One of yours, perhaps?” Zoe asks.
Even though I should know better, I can’t resist asking, “Which do you suggest?”
He smirks as he passes me the bar menu. “You won’t be needing Attraente Malt, you’re perfect as you are.”
The line is so cheesy and the look on his face tells me he’s fully aware of the fact. He’s used the line before and he’ll probably use it again on someone else. That thought bothers me slightly, not that I’m sure why.
“Beer Goggle Brew might be a good idea,” Zoe suggests. “Then you might actually sleep with Holden here, even though you’ve probably already worked out he’s a complete manwhore.”
Holden gives Zoe a look of mock horror. “I’d recommend the Wet Dream Draught,” he says, his eyes wicked with promise, “so long as you promise to dream of me.”
Even though I know it’s just another line, I feel a clenching sensation as my entire body begins to heat up. I hear another ouch from somewhere behind me but I no longer care.
“Two Nonsupe Brews, please,” Zoe tells the bartender.
All the while I’m just standing here, burning up, no doubt blushing violently, unable to look away from the man perched at the bar.
“Holden Sterling,” he says, holding out his hand.
I stare at it, struggling to process what exactly I’m supposed to do with that hand. After several drawn out seconds, I reach forward and shake it with my own much hotter hand. He doesn’t even wince as my touch undoubtably burns him.
“Ember Feu,” I say, my voice parched.
Without another word, I turn around and follow Zoe across the dance floor to where Riley Storm and Eirwen are waiting for us.
“Who was that at the bar?” Riley asks.
“Holden Sterling,” Zoe answers as I glance back towards where Holden is still sitting, his face turned towards us. “It looks like Ember might be his next conquest.”
“You’d be better off going for his brother,” Riley suggests. “Klaus has the same pretty face, minus the sluttiness.”
“He has a brother?” I ask, barely looking at my friends.
“Two of them,” Zoe says. “His twin, Klaus and their big brother Dominick.”
I force myself to look away from the distraction I don’t need. But it’s harder to ignore the way my body is still aware of him, fire coursing through me, heating me up so much that I fear that I might melt the seat beneath me.
“What are you drinking?” Eirwen asks, taking my drink in her hand and giving it a good sniff. Her nose scrunches up with distaste. "It smells like someone relieved themselves in your glass."
“Beer,” I answer with a laugh. “Do you not have those where you come from?”
“Nope. Thank goodness.”
“So, you moved out of the Tilbury?” Eirwen asks.
“Would you live there?” I return her question with one of my own. “With that dragon in the room next door?”
The question is pointless though. While Riley and Zoe might agree with me that moody dragon shifters don’t make for the best neighbors, Eirwen looks bewildered. I guess that’s to be expected. Where she comes from dragons are commonplace.
“I really don’t understand your prejudice against dragons,” Eirwen says with a sigh, causing the rest of us to erupt with laughter.
Playing Hooky
I wake up late the next morning. My head feels like it might explode. I stare up at the unfamiliar ceiling until I hear a buzzing coming from the bedside table. My cell phone is sitting there next to a glass of water. Taking a sip of the lukewarm water, I unlock my phone.
There are several missed calls from Garrick waiting for me, the witch no doubt wanting to know where the hell I am. He’s not a particularly patient man at the best of times. And definitely not when he’s waiting for me on the ice.
You wouldn’t have thought he’d expect me to skate after I fell on the ice the other day. But apparently one day off the ice is more than enough to rest my ankle.
Ignoring the missed calls, I put my phone on silent and send Zoe a quick text asking if she’s free for a coffee. As much as I’d rather spend the day in bed, this is one place Garrick will definitely look for me.
And since Garrick says it’s going to take at least a week for him to get my skates fixed, I have absolutely no intentions of visiting the rink. I can’t skate without my skates. In all the years I’ve skated, all the competitions I’ve competed in, I have never worn a different pair.
My skates were a gift. A gift from the arsehole dad who abandoned me in this crappy town. He’d spelled them to grow with me as my feet grew so that as long as I took care of them, I’d never need to replace them. In some ways, it’s like having him with me on the ice.
I’m not really sure why I’m so attached to them. I should have thrown them away years ago. Probably should have quit skating too, just to spite him. Except I love it too much. And I love those skates too.
Plus, I’m definitely a little bit superstitious and swapping skates can ruin your performance. The last thing I need right now is to skate in someone else’s skates. That’s the fastest way to ruin my routine.
Looking around my new bedroom, I take it all in. It looks just as impersonal as the hotel room I’ve been staying in at the Tilbury. It’s a beautiful room but even though I’ve unpacked my stuff, there’s nothing about it that says this room belongs to me. Getting out of the bed, I cross the room in my pajama shorts and crop top.
I grab a hoodie out of the chest of draws that contains most of my possessions. Pulling it over my shoulders, I comb my fingers through my hair before leaving my bedroom. Kit is sitting in the living room, watching TV while eating a yoghurt.
“Morning,” she says in a surprisingly peppy voice. I can’t understand morning people. I should have checked if she was one of those weirdos before I moved in.
“Hmmm,” I mutter, perching down on the sofa next to her.