I think.
“Did she say why she was out late?” Tanner asks.
I shake my head. “No. Then again, why would she tell me?”
“Right,” Ian says, looking a little too amused. “The guy who tries to hug her, then glares at her, then runs upstairs in the middle of the night and almost punches her. Not exactly someone to confide in.”
“You try staying calm and thinking things through when you find your soul match,” I mutter grumpily.
“It’s just odd that she isn’t resonating back with you,” Ian says. “Her magic is powerful.”
“It is,” Flynn says, perching on the arm of the couch. “Even I felt a wave of resonance from her.”
The other fae nod eagerly, and I feel jealousy cut off my breath like a murderer trying to choke me.
“Calm down, Brett,” Ian says, looking my way. “We all know your match is the strongest.”
Tanner shakes his head. “It’s up to her. If she resonates with any of us, chooses any of us, we can worry about that later. But that’s not why we’re here. We need to focus on protecting her.”
“But if she’s strong enough that we all feel her pull, why doesn’t she feel us?” Flynn asks, looking as puzzled as I feel. “It doesn’t make sense.”
Tanner sighs. “The truth is we don’t know much about these beacons or why they have latent powers. We would be wise not to be distracted from the matter at hand, which is—”
“We get it. Fighting chaos princes,” Flynn says, looking bored by the topic. “Still, wouldn’t it be best to align with her so we could be around to protect her better?”
“How can we do that when she doesn’t feel our resonance?” I ask.
“Well, we could try making friends,” Flynn says, rubbing his hand over his stubble. “You know, the human way.”
Friends? How does anyone be friends with someone like Avery? It’s like an icicle being friends with the sun.
I’ll melt in her very presence.
“Calm down over there,” Flynn calls out to me. “Your angst is just going to make this weird again.”
“Put on the third suppressor,” Tanner says.
I glower at him. “No. I’ll be fine.” I press back my magic, force myself not to think of her. I take deep breaths. “I can do this.”
“Good,” Flynn says, standing up to stride over to the door. “Because I’m going up to invite her for pizza, and as long as you don’t come up and make things awkward, I think I can get her to say yes.”
I’m about to protest because I don’t want that damn fire fairy anywhere near my soul match, but he’s probably got a point.
He’s the most charming, and he possibly could get her to come down here if he’s friendly enough.
The thought of having her here is breathtaking. “Fine,” I say quietly.
He strides to the door and opens it, stopping only to condescendingly look over his shoulder at me. “Oh, and, Brett, when I bring her down here, try not to be quite so off-putting. We really need the beacon to trust us right now.”
An icy blast slams the door into his ass, knocking him out of the room as he lets out a yelp of surprise.
I grin as the frost slowly melts around the doorway while the other fae laugh in response.
Then I await the arrival of my match.
3
Avery
After a tiring day of working with nerds who insist I can’t know what I’m doing because I’m female, all I want to do is curl up on my couch for a long nap.
But my stomach growls, reminding me I skipped lunch so I could finish my shift faster.
The last thing I want is to get up and make dinner, but my paycheck doesn’t allow for a lot of takeout.
I groan as I roll over, facedown on the couch, utterly exhausted.
The most amazing smell is coming from downstairs, probably where all the hot dudes are living.
Maybe hanging out with them wouldn’t be so bad after all…
Someone knocks on the door, and I let out a sigh as I stand, hoping it’s not the landlord reminding me rent is due.
But it’s not.
It’s Flynn, the red-haired man from downstairs, looking gorgeous in a gray pullover that’s rolled up on his forearms to show off perfect, tanned muscles and long, elegant hands, which are currently holding a pizza box.
“We were hoping to entice you downstairs with free food,” he says, golden-brown eyes sparkling in a way that’s almost magical.
I eye the box, tempted. “What’s in it for you?”
“Company,” he says easily, tilting his head to study me. “We could use a friendly neighbor around here. Being new and all.”
I sigh. “How do I know you don’t have evil intentions?”
He glances at the pizza. “Well, this pizza is almost evilly good, so…” He wiggles auburn eyebrows at me, and I finally laugh, thinking maybe some company would be good for once.
It normally wouldn’t be such a great idea to go hang out with four men I barely know, but I’m not worried about what they could do to me.
Because I know they can’t do anything to me.
That thought, plus the way my mouth is already watering at the pizza, is enough to get me moving.
“I gotta take care of some things. Then I’ll be right down,” I say, oddly excited for some reason as he nods and leaves.
I go to the bathroom, brush back my hair into its typical messy bun, and pull on a black college hoodie and some comfortable leggings.
Then I jog down to the apartment I saw them moving into before.
Part of me is wondering if they’re all really as good-looking as I remember.
It’s not that looks matter so much in this world, because ugliness or beauty is more about what you have on the inside, but my brain still feels like it’s trying to process the physical perfection of these men.
Almost like I’m staring at an illusion.
I knock on the door and hear laughter and chatter go silent.
The next moment, the door is pulled open, and Brett, creepy midnight stalker from last night, is standing with one hand on the side of the frame.
He’s so much bigger than me. So much taller. I hate it.
He moves back from the door, opening it to let me in, and the other men are sitting on various couches and chairs, looking surprised to see me.
“We didn’t think you would really come,” Flynn says, jumping off his chair and walking over to the counter to show me where the plates and pizza are.
I flip open the box, stomach growling as I load a few pieces of pineapple and ham onto my plate.
Brett is staring at me like I’m an abomination.
“Do you have a problem with me?” I ask, leaning on the counter as I take my first bite. It’s gooey and warm, and I can’t stifle my little moan of pure pleasure.
Which makes all of the men in the room snap their attention to me, watching curiously.
Except for Brett, whose attention I already fully had. He leans back against the door, arms folded, muscles bunching in the soft blue tee shirt that grazes his perfect chest and hard abs. He has an open hoodie on over it. His jeans curve around hard thighs, thick calves, moving down to what are probably perfect ankles, though I can’t see them in the loafer slippers he’s wearing.