Broken Dove (Fantasyland #4)(185)

She liked him.

Alas, she was not a woman who would respond (at all) to me teasing her about it and since that would be a waste of effort (and good teasing), I didn’t.

But I wished I could.

Loretta, however, would be sleeping in an empty bed tonight.

Surprisingly, Hans had made no headway.

Unsurprisingly, as a great deal of time had passed, he’d backed off.

Though he didn’t do it happily and his near-constant glower often aimed Loretta’s way told me so. It also pretty much told the same to anyone who witnessed it.

And everyone witnessed it.

For some reason, this didn’t sit well with me. And although she did it jokingly, earlier that evening, her asking after Bain and Zahnin’s relationship status also struck me wrong.

She’d been into Hans.

I thought she’d cave (eventually).

She didn’t.

She also hadn’t shared.

Friends were supposed to look after friends—I guessed, since I didn’t have a lot of experience. But the friends I had now looked after me.

And I wasn’t sure I was looking after her.

So there I was, heading to her door.

Once I’d made it, before I could chicken out, I lifted my hand to knock.

I didn’t get it in because I heard the door behind me open.

I twisted that way and saw that Meeta stood in it.

“Hey, honey,” I greeted.

“Miss Maddie,” she replied.

A chill slid over my skin when I caught the look on her face.

Since she was studying me closely in a way that kind of freaked me out, I turned fully to her.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

She kept studying me and didn’t answer.

“Meeta?” I prompted.

She tipped her head to the side.

Yes, freaking me out.

Suddenly, her face cleared and she said, “Everything is fine.”

The chill left.

If Meeta said everything was fine, she would not lie.

A brawny arm appeared, that arm wrapping itself around Meeta’s chest.

Then the handsome face of Ruben appeared at the side of her head.

He dipped his chin to me and gave me a wolfish grin.

Half a second later, Meeta disappeared and the door clicked shut.

I grinned at the door before I turned and knocked on Loretta’s.

Within moments, I heard the lock turn and the door opened a few inches.

When she spied me, she opened it further and frowned.

“Is everything all right, Miss Maddie?” she asked.

“Everything’s fine, honey,” I answered. “Can I come in for a sec and chat?”

She looked confused but opened the door further and invited me in, saying, “Of course.”

I moved into her room and noted that the fire was blazing, the lamp by her bed was lit and a book was upside down on the bedclothes.

I turned to her. “I’m sorry, you were all settled in.”

“I’m always happy for a visit from you, Miss Maddie,” she replied, moving to the bed and sitting on its edge, grabbing her book and setting it on the nightstand, finishing, “It’s nice anytime but definitely much better than this book.”

I followed and sat beside her. “No good?”

“I’m not sure the hero is going to end up with the heroine.” She grinned at me. “I prefer a happy ending.”

I did too.

And I was there to ask about hers.

“Okay, honey,” I started. “Just to say, this isn’t any of my business and you don’t have to talk about it, but it seems you’ve managed to put Hans off.”

She looked to her knees, murmuring, “Finally.”

That word should have held relief.

But I didn’t hear relief.

I just didn’t know what I heard.

“Can I...” I paused and she returned her eyes to me, “ask why?”

“Why?”

“Hans is a good man, Loretta, and you liked him a great deal before what happened in Brunskar.”

She looked back to her knees and it seemed she was uncomfortable.

Okay, maybe I’d screwed up. Maybe friends weren’t supposed to stick their noses in their friend’s business.

Backtracking, I assured her quickly, “You don’t have to talk about it with me. It’s your business. Not mine.”

Her gaze came again to me. “I’m…choosy,” she declared.

“Choosy?” I asked.

She turned fully to me. “I enjoy bedplay. Most definitely. But I’m choosy with who I do it with. I haven’t had a great number of partners because of that,” she stated openly.

“Okay,” I replied slowly when she didn’t continue.

“He pursued me,” she went on.

“Are we talking about the first time?” I asked.

She nodded. “I thought…well, the first time, he was like he was this last time, obviously not as much because I gave in, but he seemed”—she shrugged—“interested in me. For more than bedplay.”

“And you were disappointed when he wasn’t,” I guessed.

“Yes,” she confirmed. “But it was more. It was clear he was very good at it, for I greatly enjoyed what we did. Much more than I’d ever enjoyed it before. But when he wanted no more, I thought perhaps I…well…wasn’t. Good at it that is.”