Vipers and Virtuosos (Monsters & Muses, #2)(54)

It’s my heart that’s having a hard time keeping up.

A shadow falls over the table, and I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. Every cell in my body expects to be shoved down the booth seat, or for the table to be jostled as Aiden slides in across from me, but neither of those things happens.

One of my eyes pops back open, snapping to the right of me; brown suede boots stand with their toes pointed in my direction, and as I drag my gaze up over faded Levi’s and an Aspen University hoodie, I exhale with relief.

“Mind if I join you?” Caleb asks, pulling the black knit hat off his head.

I nod, sliding my closed laptop out of the way, and he drops into the seat across from me.

“Shouldn’t you be working?” I ask, glancing out the window at his gallery, where I can see an elderly couple staring into the storefront.

“Shouldn’t you be?” he counters, leaning his head back against the seat. “I thought that’s why you come to Dahlia’s during the day, so you can work undisturbed and not have to make yourself lunch.”

“Hot cocoa break.” I raise the mug, taking a sip. “Besides, I don’t have any clients lined up for a bit because of Thanksgiving. You, on the other hand, seem pretty busy.”

Jade comes over and sets a red mug down in front of Caleb; they’ve been friends for so long, she knows what he wants without him even having to ask, and I can’t help the bubble of jealousy that pops in my chest at the familiarity.

“So,” Jade says, cocking one hip out as she rests a hand in her black apron pocket. “I hear I have you to thank for why I was pulled from a comfy evening at home last night and forced to put on a cocktail dress and mingle.”

My eyes flicker to Caleb, who just takes a drink of his cocoa. Glancing at Jade, I give what I hope is a sheepish smile.

“I only suggested he ask. To be honest, I didn’t think you’d agree.”

She scoffs, rolling her green eyes as she hooks a thumb at Caleb. “Yeah, try saying no to this guy. He wouldn’t fucking shut up about it, and his whining was distracting me from my shows.”

I smother a giggle. Though my age, Jade sometimes sounds like the oldest woman alive, and she’s got the grumpy personality to match.

Boyd would probably love her.

Sadness breaks through the levee I’ve erected around my heart, and soon even that’s bursting, unable to withhold it forever.

Caleb clears his throat, pulling me from where it feels like I’m drowning. “I don’t whine.”

“More than a horse, dude. But it’s okay, because you make a mean apple crumble, which you promised to make for Thanksgiving dinner.”

His eyes flicker to mine. “You’re still coming to that, right?”

Pulling my bottom lip between my teeth, I hesitate. My mother and I never really did Thanksgiving when she was alive, on account of her usually being too high, so it’s another holiday I don’t necessarily care about celebrating.

Fiona does though, and for the last three years she’s had feasts delivered to my doorstep, before showing up for the weekend and helping me eat it all.

This year, though, Caleb wore me down, and I’d agreed to go to his mother’s house.

Of course, that was before Aiden James reentered my life just to sabotage it, and I’m not sure he’s the most appropriate dinner guest in his current state.

“Don’t you dare cancel,” Caleb says, pointing his finger at me. He leans in, eyebrows drawing together. “Live a little, Angel. You don’t want to end up like Mrs. Lindholm, with no friends and no one to stop by to entertain you when business is a little slow.”

“Mrs. Lindholm has friends,” I say, glancing out the window to her souvenir shop.

A shadowy figure sits on the bench just outside of it, long arms stretched over the back. He’s got on black jeans and a gray puffer jacket, the hood pulled up so it obscures his face, but I’d know him anywhere.

My stomach knots, roving over bejeweled fingers as they grip the wood, remembering how they felt inside of me twenty-four hours ago.

Then, I remember the denial and the threat that came after.

“Mrs. Lindholm has a bridge club who she likes to gossip with, but that’s about it.” Caleb sighs, taking another drink of his hot chocolate. When he pulls away, foam paints his upper lip, and he licks it off.

“What’s wrong with the bridge club?” Jade asks, folding her arms over her chest. “My mom’s in it.”

Caleb snorts. “I rest my case.”

I don’t know much about Jade’s mom, except that she’s a travel nurse and recent divorcée, but the way Jade’s eyes harden leaves me with the feeling that there’s more going on there than we know. And since I know all about complicated mother-daughter relationships, I feel responsible for changing the subject.

Swallowing over the lump in my throat, I reach forward for my laptop, sliding it into its leather case. “I’ll think about Thanksgiving,” I tell Caleb, looking out the window again.

When I do, Aiden’s gone, and it feels like a pit opens up in the center of my chest, demanding to be filled—with what, I’m not sure.

“If it’s a matter of politeness, you can bring your… houseguest.”

Jade turns to me, her black ponytail swishing against her shoulders. “You have a houseguest?”