by Lexi C. Foss
Needing something to do, Lizzie set about cleaning up the dishes without a word. She could feel Stas’s worried gaze on her as she moved, but she refused to acknowledge it.
Being angry with her best friend felt wrong, yet right. They used to be so close, confiding in each other over everything and spending quality time together, but lately, Lizzie felt like she was living with a stranger.
Stas rarely came home, and when she did, she brought Issac or stayed for a few minutes before leaving again. Their weekly girls’ nights were now monthly and stilted, and always ended early. Lizzie just didn’t see a point anymore.
She felt so alone.
A tear threatened, but she swiped it away.
I’m being a child.
Emotional.
Irrational.
She needed a distraction.
And maybe to grow up a little.
Tom always saw her as a child because she behaved like one, and sulking in the kitchen certainly proved him right.
She set the last of the plates in the sink.
This was the part where she hand-washed them meticulously and set them out to dry, but her hands refused the task.
Why do I do this to myself?
Not even nine o’clock on a Friday night and she stood alone in her kitchen, staring at a pile of plates.
A giggle blossomed in her chest at the absurdity of it. Twenty-four-years-old going on fifty.
To hell with it.
She would clean the dishes later. Maybe even tomorrow.
The minor change in her routine lifted an invisible weight from her shoulders. All the stress and disappointment of dinner left her on an exhale.
A sense of freedom and bliss overwhelmed her as she realized she could do whatever she wanted.
There were no papers to grade, no work in the morning, and no commitments except for the guests at the table. But none of them were talking to her anyway, so why stay?
Maybe she could call Cam or Kristin. It’d been a while since she saw her sorority sisters. Why not meet them at a bar and let her hair down a little?
Or she could go out alone and meet a stranger. That sounded scandalous. She liked it.
With a smile, she went to her room, freshened up, slid on a pair of stilettos that paired well with her red dress, and grabbed her purse.
The sound of her name stopped Lizzie in the hallway beside the dining room.
“Yes?” she asked, turning.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going out,” Lizzie replied with no destination in mind. Her mother would be furious when she heard about this, but she couldn’t bring herself to worry. She more than earned this reprieve from social niceties. “Enjoy your evening.”
“Wait, Liz—”
But Lizzie had no intention of waiting for anything or anyone.
She opened the door and let it slam behind her with finality. Her feet were moving in the direction of the stairwell before she realized what her heart had in mind.
Jayson Masters.
Why should he be the only one allowed to stop by unannounced? Lizzie could be spontaneous, too, and if he happened to be out, she’d figure out plan B.
Her lips curled with the challenge.
Yes, this was what she needed to be doing—enjoying life.
She’d start by telling a certain overbearing neighbor how she felt. Not with words, but with her mouth.
9
Running Domestic Errands
Subject appears ready for human interaction trials. Meeting with moderator tomorrow to discuss parameters and requirements.
—Entry Log 117.12.4-7
“You ready?” Balthazar asked from the bedroom doorway. He’d left with Jacque to deliver the mysterious liquid to Luc’s team for research. His delayed return suggested their omniscient friend had several questions. Typical.
“Just about.” Jayson fixed the collar of his gray dress shirt, leaving the top button undone, and added a light jacket to the mix. His dark jeans lent a casual feel that suited their destination. Balthazar was dressed similarly, minus the jacket.
“Fewer clothes to take off later,” he murmured, responding to Jayson’s mental observation.
“That’s half the fun, B.”
“And see, this is why I’ve missed you. The others just haven’t achieved our level yet.” He clapped Jayson on the back. “Let’s go have some fun.”
“Don’t let Luc hear you talk like that.” The trio had a history of competition, and Luc more than held his own. “He owned that syrup challenge last year.”
Balthazar grinned as they walked toward the living area. “That was an excellent week.”
“How he managed to get those two women in that position…” Jayson whistled at the memory. “That was a sight to behold.”
“He earned that win,” Balthazar agreed. “Hands down.”
“Or up, as it were.”
Balthazar chuckled. “Indeed.”
“I still want to hear about what went down in Brazil,” Grace said from the couch. She had her bare feet up on the coffee table and a bowl of popcorn in her lap.
“Jay, several times.”
Jayson’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “And you didn’t?” The whole damn competition started after Balthazar and Luc disagreed—again—about waffles and pancakes. The debauchery that ensued as a result satisfied Jayson for several weeks.
“I assumed that was self-explanatory.” B winked at the now-blushing Hydraian on the couch. “Grace knows how I handle women in the bedroom, don’t you, sweetheart?”
There were some things Jayson didn’t want to know. This was one of those things.
“I think we should go before I lose my interest.” Just need to find Jacque. The teleporter was probably in the kitchen, stealing his food.
“Mmm, I highly doubt that’s about to happen anytime soon,” Balthazar replied with a secret smile.
Jayson didn’t like that look. He knew what usually followed. “What—”
A knock at his door cut him off.
“You should probably answer that.” Balthazar relaxed onto the couch beside Grace. “Might be important.”
Lizzie. If it were anyone else, Balthazar would have opened the door himself.
A peek into the hallway confirmed it.
He twisted the handle and grinned at his favorite redhead.
She dove right into the conversation without waiting for him to begin.
“I’ve decided that you’re not the only one who can stop by unannounced.” The confidence in her voice and lack of a greeting deepened his smile.
“Well, hello to you too, Red.”
“Hi,” she added as an afterthought. “I don’t actually know what I want to do, but I want to do something.”
His eyebrows inched upward. “Yeah? Like what?”
“Dancing.” She slipped past him as she spoke. “And maybe more drinking…”
Her voice trailed off as she spied the couple on the couch.
“Oh…” That delectable red graced her cheeks and neck as she spun to face him. “I’m so sorry. Oh God. That was so rude of me. I didn’t realize you had company, but of course you do. I’ll… uh…” She tried to slide past him again, but Jayson blocked her exit.
“Dancing and drinking,” he murmured, repeating her requests. “Does that mean you’re ready to attend that concert with me?”
She snorted, her gaze meeting his again. “I said I want to dance, not bang my head against a wall.”
He covered his heart. “You wound me, Lizzie.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” she replied with a saucy little grin. “And you never texted me to plan the concert, so I think that means you owe me another movie night instead.”
He leaned into her personal space. “I definitely prefer drinking and dancing over that option,” he admitted softly. “But if you insist, then it’s a date.”
“Hmm, I give it a five-point-two,” Balthazar murmured as he strolled up next to Lizzie. The words would
go over her head, but Jayson understood the implication behind them.
Give me a break, B. She’s an innocent. If he laid it on any thicker, she’d run downstairs.
Balthazar’s expression said, Let me show you how this is done.
“You must be the beautiful neighbor Jay won’t stop thinking about.” He held out a hand. “I’m Balthazar, Jay’s oldest and dearest friend. Lizzie, right?”
“Uh, yeah.” She accepted his hand.
“Lovely to meet you.” He brought her wrist to his lips.
“Likewise?” Lizzie’s breathless voice sizzled over Jayson’s skin.
He never cared how women reacted to Balthazar. The man could send lovers to their knees with a look, something that made him the ideal wingman and provided them both with endless entertainment and pleasure. But hearing Lizzie react to his friend in that same way undid something inside of him.
Balthazar released Lizzie’s hand far too slowly for Jayson’s liking as he asked, “I assume you’re staying for the party?”
“Party?” she repeated.
What are you doing?
Shh. I’ve got this, Jay, his eyes seemed to say.
Oh, I bet you do.
“Jay didn’t tell you?” Balthazar tsked. “That’s just like him. He doesn’t know how to properly host.” That last part was whispered conspiratorially at Lizzie, eliciting a giggle from her.
Now you’re just being a dick.
Balthazar’s gaze glimmered deviously. “Like even now, he still hasn’t offered you a drink.” He shook his head in mock reproach. “What can I get you, sweetheart? A glass of wine, perhaps?”
Jayson closed the door because, clearly, Lizzie would be staying for the party he had no intention of throwing. It shut a little louder than intended, not that anyone seemed to notice.
“Um.” Lizzie licked her lips. “I do like wine.”
“Excellent,” Balthazar murmured. “You make yourself at home while Jay and I procure the drinks. A beer for you, Grace?”
“Obviously,” she replied from the couch. Her legs were still kicked up on the table, but the popcorn had been set to the side.
“Come on, Jay.” Balthazar nodded at the kitchen. “Time to play host.”
“Sure,” Jayson replied. “Lizzie, this is Grace. I promise she’s mostly harmless.” He winked at his favorite Guardian while he said it and pushed away from the door. “Be back in a minute.” I need to go kick my best friend’s ass.
Balthazar chuckled. “You’ll need more than a minute.”
“We’ll see, won’t we?” he muttered while following his friend through the dining room.
They rounded the corner to find Jacque sitting on one of the counters with a pizza box in his lap.
Jayson eyed the now-empty container. “Do they not feed you in Hydria?”
“Your fridge is full of leftovers. I’m just helping you clean it up,” the slender teleporter replied around a mouthful of food.
“Charming,” Jayson muttered.
“I could say the same about you, Jay. What was that back there?” Balthazar demanded. “Half-assed flirting? I’ve taught you better than that.”
“Come on, like you’ve taught me anything.” Jayson opened his fridge to look for a bottle of wine he knew didn’t exist. “We both know I can hold my own just fine, B.”
“Did I hear something about a party?” Jacque interrupted. “’Cause you’re going to need more liquor.”
“And people,” Jayson added. “What the fuck were you thinking inviting her to stay for a party?”
“You let me worry about that.” Balthazar grinned knowingly. “First things first, we need a bottle of wine. Jacque?”
“On it.” He disappeared in a flash.
Jayson palmed the back of his neck and blew out a breath. “So much for a night off.” Something he blamed Balthazar for more than Lizzie.
“When have I ever let you down?” his friend asked. “I’ve got this.”
“A new challenge?” Jayson guessed with a laugh. “Do tell.”
“Oh, no. This one is personal and all my own, but you’ll be thanking me in the morning.” The promise in his voice was one earned by centuries of perfected experience.
He shrugged. “All right.” When Balthazar set his mind to something, it happened, and on this, Jayson had no complaints.
Assuming it doesn’t hurt Lizzie.
He frowned at the thought. Why would it? They didn’t owe each other anything. He liked her, sure, but she was forbidden fruit—an asset—that he couldn’t touch.
She doesn’t know that.
“That’s quite a conundrum,” Balthazar mused. “She has you tied up in knots, my friend. But don’t worry. We’ll get it straightened out.” He clapped Jayson on the shoulder just as Jacque reappeared with a bottle of wine in each hand.
“Didn’t know what you’d prefer, so I grabbed two from Wakefield’s cellar.” The teleporter set them on the counter and turned to Balthazar. “I assume we’re off to pick up some people and more drinks?”
“We are indeed. Let’s start with Maria.” He extended a hand as Jayson’s mouth fell open.
“You can’t be—” But it was too late. Balthazar and Jacque had already disappeared.
Fuck.
Maria specialized in altering short-term memory, which could only mean one thing: Balthazar planned to pick up random humans from bars and teleport them here. To Jayson’s condo. In the middle of New York City.
He inwardly groaned at the idiocy of this plan. They might as well post a sign out front welcoming the Ichorians to their party.
“Do you need any help?” Lizzie asked as she rounded the corner. She glanced at the two unopened bottles before eyeing Jayson’s position against the counter. He’d leaned against it while lamenting about his situation. “Where did your friend go?”
“He’s working out some party details,” he replied vaguely.
“Oh, okay. Um, do you want me to help you get ready?” The hopeful note in her voice endeared her to him even more.
“I can open the wine.” He went to search for a corkscrew. Mateo and Issac had furnished the condo for him. There had to be one somewhere.
The fridge opened beside him, causing him to look questioningly at Lizzie.
“I’ll help,” she explained with a sweet smile. The woman seriously had no idea how her beauty affected others. “With the food prep, I mean.”
“Food prep?”
“Yeah. You know, like cheese and crackers, fruit…” She trailed off as she eyed his mostly empty shelves. “Or… not.” She closed the door and lifted one eyebrow. “How do you expect to throw a party without any food?”
“Uh…” Most of his parties ended in the bedroom, not the dining room.
Both brows rose now. “You don’t plan to serve anything other than beer and some wine?”
“Well.” He palmed the back of his neck again. “I wasn’t exactly…” The fiery glimmer in her eyes sent his thought process south. Would her pupils dilate like that in his bed?
“Jayson Masters,” she chastised. “You cannot throw a party without food!” She shook her head. “What time are you expecting people?”
He considered Balthazar’s intentions and shrugged. “Thirty minutes or so?”
Lizzie huffed a breath. “Hardly enough time, but we can manage.” She set the white wine in the fridge, near his personal beer stash, and left the red on the counter. Jayson knew Balthazar would bring more alcohol, but the amount in there would be enough to at least kick-start the party.
“Let’s go.” She grabbed his hand and gave him a good tug, forcing him to follow. His dick wanted to go in the opposite direction, toward his room, but it seemed she had other ideas in mind.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“There’s a twenty-four-seven market open on Seventy-seventh and Broadway. Let’s go grab a few things.” She was already at the door. He spied her purse on the end table, but she made no move to grab it. Good thing he
had his wallet—not that he would ever let her pay anyway.
“Have fun.” Grace waved, her amusement palpable. “I’ll just babysit your place until you get back.”
“Cute,” he returned.
She flashed him a wide grin. “I try, Jay. I do.”
Lizzie yanked him into the hallway before he could reply and guided him down the hall. “Now, how many people are having you over?”
Knowing Balthazar… “At least twenty.” And most of them would be women.
“I can work with that.”
He watched her ass as she descended the stairs before him. Yeah, he could think of worse pastimes than letting her boss him around. Except in the bedroom. He enjoyed control too much for that.
She listed several “party snack” ideas on their way to the store, and he agreed to each one just for the hell of it. Her definition of entertaining differed significantly from his, but he didn’t mind.
All of her formalities reminded him a bit of Amelia, or at least the former version, anyway. The one who returned to Hydria two months ago seemed less enthusiastic about social gatherings. Not that he could blame her. Torture changed a person.
Jayson grabbed a basket at the door and followed Lizzie’s commands throughout the market. Then he handed his card over to the cashier, with a bemused smile at the total his redhead had managed to rack up in less than ten minutes of wandering.
“You certainly know how to shop, Red,” he murmured.
“Oh, this is nothing,” she replied. “You should see me with my sorority sisters.”
“Yeah? Tell me more about these sisters.” He picked up the reusable bags Lizzie insisted on buying in addition to the food. She claimed they were important for the environment, which he couldn’t exactly argue against.
“You want to hear about the lingerie parties and pillow fights, don’t you?”
“Absolutely.”
“Sorry, but that doesn’t happen.”
Not true, Red. He’d attended several over his lifetime. “Sounds like a bucket list item that requires checking.”
She snorted. “No, thank you.”
“Not even with me?” he teased.