Kiss of Fire (Imdalind, #1)(23)

We lay back on her bed, legs draping off the side, as we caught our breath from laughing, small chuckles still escaping. Just being here had made me forget all about the stress of the day, and we hadn’t even gotten to the movie, yet. Night of the Living Vampire was sure to suck as Wyn had said so poignantly.

“So, I know he’s not your boyfriend,” Wyn began, a smile on her face, “but how the heck did you become friends with the heir to Imdalind Forging?”

“What did you do, Google him?”

“Yeah.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, her voice sounded like a cornered child.

“My mom has been their in-house chef since I was five; I practically grew up in their kitchen.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Ry and I have been friends since day one. It drives his dad and Timothy crazy; I am a little below their status.” Saying it out loud made the whole “falling for a prince” situation more real.

“Timothy?” Wyn asked with something akin to recognition.

“Yeah, he’s kind of the head of the company and Ryland’s wrangler. He hates me.” As I did him.

“And they still let you two be friends?”

I was just as shocked as she was. “Not by choice. Ryland kind of makes them.”

“And they don’t just fire your mom?”

I almost laughed outright. “Oh, they threaten to, but I don’t think they want to lose such a great cook. Besides, Ryland’s leaving for school in a few months, so I guess they don’t think it’s worth the fight anymore. It’s not like I can follow him to Oxford.”

I hated talking about this stuff; my heart felt so heavy and broken, like part of me was leaving with him.

“You love him,” she said.

“More than I should,” I whispered. I knew I sounded ridiculous.

“It’s okay to love.”

“Not when they don’t love you back.” I sighed again; it felt like I was trying to get rid of all my stress through my lungs.

“Especially then. I think it makes you a better person. At least then you know what it feels like to love instead of living without ever knowing. I love a lot of people that I know will never love me back, but I am happier because of it.” I could tell she believed what she said; her voice was so deep and heavy.

“You sound like my mom.”

“I’ve never heard that one before!” she laughed.

“And who do you love?”

“Talon,” she sighed.

The sound of desperate love made me giggle; I wondered if that’s how I sounded when I talked about Ry.

“I’ll introduce you to him when he comes to visit.”

“So he loves you back then?”

“Yeah…” Her voice was so airy I couldn’t help but smile.

The song on the oldies station we were listening to changed. Wyn jumped up, squealing in delight. She leaped onto a pile of boxes that sat at the foot of her bed, pulling me up with her. She continued to jump and squeal as she danced around, the corners of the boxes heaving as she danced and moved.

“I’m so tired of losin’, I’ve got nothing to do and all day to dooo iiiiiiit! So, I go out cruisin’, but I’ve no place to go and all night to geeeeeet theeeeeere!” Her hair swished around her face, heavy plastic bangles jangling and clanking. Her joy at the Styx song was infectious and I found myself singing and dancing along, even though I didn’t know the words.

“Too much time on my hands!” We sang together, our loud monotone voices clashing against each other. “Too much time on my hands!”

Wyn jumped off the boxes, hair and arms flying, to land on the plush carpet in an air guitar solo. Her arms swung and wiggled in an attempt to play the nonexistent instrument she held in her hands. Her short, auburn hair flipped around her face as she swung her head in an attempt to “rock out”.

The guitar solo ended. Wyn jumped up again and grabbed my hands to push me into her crazy dancing. We jumped around the floor like clowns, pulling out dance moves that our parents must have done, in our rambunctious attempt at dancing.

“Please tell me you’ve been to a Styx concert,” Wyn yelled between verses.

“Do they still have concerts?” I asked, jumping around alongside her.

“Yes!” Wyn grabbed my hands and began to spin me around as she continued to yell verses and choruses full blast. And, quick as it had come, the song ended and we both collapsed on the floor, laughing at ourselves.

“So,” Wyn sighed after a moment. “You gonna show me your scar?”

Her question was so innocent, but my reaction was anything but. Time seemed to stop. My heart stopped. My breathing stopped. The only thing that didn’t stop was my stomach, which flipped as my head screamed at me to run.

“What scar?” Maybe if I played dumb, I could deter her. I had already checked that my hair covered the right side of my head, and the dreaded mark. It didn’t. I was always so careful; I don’t know how I didn’t notice.

“Oh, come on,” Wyn sighed as she sat up beside me, draping her arm over me and hindering my escape. “That one, right there below your ear. It almost looks like a dragon. That is very cool.” She leaned forward and looked at it. “I’m kind of jealous.”