#In Vino Veritas Prequel

[featherymalignancy]

CHAPTER TEN—In Vino Veritas: A Nessian Story

Summary: Nesta Archeron is convinced she has everything she wants: a law degree from an ivy, a prestigious job, a gorgeous boyfriend, and excellent taste in wine. However, when she wanders into her local wine vendor and meets a handsome stranger unafraid to play her quick-witted games, she begins to wonder if the life she’s built is really the one she wants.

Cash Kahukore worked his entire adolescent life to become a sommelier, ignoring the slurs his mixed heritage have always earned him as he fought his way to the top. However, after five years abroad buying for Michelin star restaurants and dealing with rich white assholes, he’s grown bored with his life. When a gorgeous lawyer comes in to his uncle’s shop one afternoon, he immediately recognizes a worthy opponent in her. Undaunted by her sharp tongue and possessive boyfriend, he’s determined to be her friend, and—as time goes on and their circumstances change—possibly something more.

Check out the In Vino Masterlist HERE

This a prequel to Navy Suits and Chelsea Boots that takes place three years before. If you love Elriel (and don’t mind finding out how this story ends) check it now.

Chapter 10, Pt. 1: Dom Perignon

Though Nesta had spent the better part of a week attempting to rationalize the feeling away, by Friday afternoon she could no longer deny it: she was nervous.  

Ordinarily, meeting new people didn’t scare Nesta. Winning over strangers was literally part of her job, after all, and her record in court suggested she was rather good at getting strangers to trust her. Compared to some of the juries Nesta had faced, meeting one of her boyfriend’s best friends should—in theory—have been a cakewalk. 

Except that Rhysand Sadeghi was no ordinary stranger, and Nesta couldn’t deny that he had several distressingly valid reasons for not liking her. Cash had never given her any details about his weekend with Azriel and Rhys in Vegas and Nesta had never asked, in large part because she selfishly didn’t want to know what ungenerous things he may of said about her while under the influence of alcohol and the pain she’d caused him.

Still, Rhys had seemed supportive enough when Cash and Nesta first went public with their relationship two months ago, which would have been enough to assuage the worst of Nesta’s fears about meeting him had she not also surmised from Cash’s many stories that the Sadeghi family prized loyalty above everything else, and that their good opinion, once lost, was difficult to regain. She wasn’t naive enough to think that a few flame emojis on an instagram post meant that Rhys genuinely approved of her. Despite Cash’s assurances to the contrary, Nesta could see Rhys’s current trip to the States for what it really was: a test.

When she’s suggested as much to Cash, he’d merely laughed, explaining that Rhys was coming to California to finalize an acquisition deal he’d been trying to close for months, and that he’d only decided to extend his trip and stay the weekend after Cash had suggested it.

It was a plausible enough story, Nesta supposed, and she might have even been tempted to accept it was true had Rhys been traveling alone.

 Except he wasn’t coming alone. 

Seemingly unsatisfied with the prospect of interrogating her one-on-one, Rhys had summoned what felt like a tribunal of Cash’s closest friends, including Mor and Azriel, despite the fact the former allegedly hating getting involved with the family’s real estate business and the latter lived over six hours away.

 Even Rowan was supposedly coming to their gathering this evening, and though Nesta might have otherwise been relieved to have him there as a potential ally, she felt she knew him well enough to understand that if Rowan was going to a nightclub, it was likely because Aelin was forcing him. Nesta had still yet to formally meet Aelin thanks to the latter's current AVP tournament schedule, and despite the role Nesta had played in saving Nehemiah from deportation, Aelin still remained very much a wildcard. 

As did Mor.

She’d been warm and perfectly friendly the first time Nesta met her, but things had admittedly been very different then. And now…

Nesta knew that Mor was one of Cash’s fiercest defenders, and she hadn’t deluded herself into thinking Mor would ever forgive her for what Nesta had put Cash through that night at Tonga Room, even if she didn’t know all the ugly details. 

Then again, maybe Mor would understand. From the little Cash had shared about her romantic history, Nesta had gathered that Mor had first-hand experience with abusive relationships. Perhaps if the opportunity presented itself this evening, Nesta could get Mor one-on-one. She knew that she had nothing to apologize for, but perhaps if she could explain her side of things, she and Mor could move past all the messiness and possibly start over. Maybe, with enough time and patience, they could even become... friends .

The idea filled Nesta with a dangerous sort of hope, and she found by the time that she got home to the townhouse she and Cash now shared that she was actually somewhat looking forward to seeing where the evening might take them. 

Kicking off her stilettos, Nesta gave her grandmother’s beloved bookcase an affectionate pat as she headed up the stairs to the main floor, calling for Cash as she did. 

“You still here, Mister?”

Yet another complication of the evening: Cash—who was in the final stage of interviews for the coveted North American brand manager position at Dom Pérignon—had been invited to a last-minute dinner with one of the company top executives, who’d flown in from Reims specifically for the meeting. Thrilled as Nesta was for Cash—particularly now that Devon was home and back running The Merchant full-time—she couldn’t help but be nervous for the two or so hours she’d be spending with his friends sans Cash. 

Nesta glanced at her watch and frowned. It was barely six o’clock, and the reservation wasn’t until nine-fifteen; surely he hadn’t left already. Checking her phone to ensure he hadn’t texted her, she made to call out again before hearing the rumble of his voice coming from the third floor. 

Abandoning her cell phone and purse on the dining room table, Nesta headed up the stairs, listening with increasing worry as Cash’s voice grew louder. 

He was in the study speaking to someone via video chat through the tv which had been mounted to the wall, and as Nesta drew closer, she heard an uncharacteristic bite in Cash’s tone that instantly had her good mood curdling to worry.

“If you didn’t want to come,” he was saying, voice harder than usual. “You could have at least been straight-up with me about it, instead of putting on this dog-and-pony show just to punish me—”

“Don’t be dramatic. I didn’t plan this, and I certainly didn’t do it to punish you.”

Nesta knew that voice—that lovely, posh accent, so much colder now than the first time she’d heard it. 

Mor.

And if she was on the phone, it meant she couldn’t be on a plane, and if she wasn’t on a plane, then that meant—

Nesta’s shame spiral was interrupted by the sound of Cash’s brittle laughter.

“Oh I see. To punish Nesta, then.”

Mor was silent for a moment, her voice softer but no less fierce when she finally said, “I’m not trying to punish her, either, but can you honestly tell me she wouldn’t deserve it if I was?”

Nesta’s heart sank, dragging her down with such brutal force that she had to lean against the wall to keep her balance. Every fear she’d had about meeting Cash’s friends came flooding back to the surface, and she felt the guilt she’d been trying to swallow these past months rising like bile in her throat, acrid enough to make her mouth water.

“I don’t have to justify myself to you and neither does she,” Cash said. “Jesus, what is your problem?” 

Mor gave a soft snort of disgust, her own patience seemingly frayed by Cash’s accusatory tone.

“Oh, so now I’m the villain? Even though she's the one who strung you along then broke your trust? Look, I get that she’s been through a lot and that you always want to see the best in people, but sometimes you’ve got to do the selfish thing and put yourself first.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Cash demanded.

“It means that having a shitty ex—even an abusive one—isn’t an excuse for treating others badly! I’ve known a million girls just like her, and I’ve seen how this story ends. She’s a taker, and if you let her, she will take and take and take from you until there’s nothing left.”

Mor’s words struck Nesta like a blow, driving straight to the fear that most often plagued her about her relationship: that she was selfish for still wanting Cash after everything she’d put him through, and that by continuing to be with him, she was proving she cared more for herself than she did him.

Six months ago, that one thought would have been enough to send Nesta spiraling into panic and self-doubt. Today—despite the pain—she managed to catch herself, rooting down in the knowledge that what she and Cash now had, they’d built together .

Cash—for his part—seemed equally as unwilling to allow the comment to find its mark.

“You don’t know her, though. You don’t know a goddamn thing about her, because if you did, you’d understand what an absolute dickhead you’re being right now.”

Mor gave a tight, almost-pained, sigh.

“I’m not saying this to hurt you. I’m telling you because I care about you and I’m worried.”

“Well you have a shitty way of showing it,” Cash snapped. “I love this girl, Mor! Does that really mean so little to you?”

It had apparently been the wrong thing to say, because when she finally spoke again, Mor’s voice had gone cold enough to burn.

“Do what you want, then,” she said flatly. “I’m not going to pretend I’m fine with this just because no one else has the bollocks to tell you the truth.”

There was a pause before Cash replied, voice softer but no less edged, “You’re way out of line right now; if you don’t want to admit it to me, I hope you can at least find the courage to admit it to yourself.”

“Fine,” Mor said. “Anything else?”

“Actually yes,” Cash said, a renewed bite in his tone. “While we’re on the subject of messing about in other people’s business, get off Az’s back . He’s never going to be able to open up enough to meet someone when he’s terrified you won’t approve of anyone he picks.”

Mor’s answering laugh was acerbic, and though Nesta didn’t know her well, the bitterness in her tone didn’t seem to suit the bright, kind women Nesta remembered meeting all those months ago.

“Why, so he can meet a girl like Nesta?” 

“You wanna lose me? Stay one more cruel thing about her, I fucking dare you.”

“Cash—”

“Goodbye Morrigan.”

Nesta listened as Cash ended the call before swearing to himself, the sound partially muffled as he presumably buried his head in his hands.

Nesta remained where she was, debating if she ought to just sneak back downstairs and pretend she hadn’t heard any of what had just been said. It would be easier for Cash if he could keep believing he’d managed to shield Nesta from the worst of Mor’s scorn.

Nesta’s mind was nearly made up when she recalled the look on Cash’s face as he’d begged her not to lie to him anymore, even in the service of protecting his feelings.

It was that promise which gave Nesta the courage to finally move, deliberately shuffling her bare feet along the rug in the hallway to alert him of her presence before pausing in the doorway.

Cash raised his head, his tender expression managing to slightly lessen the current ache in Nesta’s chest.

“Hi,” she said, leaning her head against the wall as she took him in.

“Hi,” he said, seeming to study her with the same intensity. “How much of that did you catch?”

She shrugged, not bothering to hide the truth of it in her eyes.

“Enough,” she admitted.

Cash swore softly before extending his arms to her.

“Can I hold you?”

That he’d asked—that he’d cared enough to seek her permission instead of simply reaching for her—soothed a part of Nesta she’d hadn’t realized was still healing.

Wordlessly she crossed to him, sinking into his lap and breathing in his inviting masculine scent. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers.

“Don’t be,” she said, fighting to keep the emotion out of her voice. “I understand.”

“No, please don’t do that,” he said. “Don’t internalize this.”

“She's not wrong, Cash.”

“Yes she is!” he said, his voice firm. Still, his touch remained gentle as he reached to cup her cheeks. “What happened at Tonga was between us , and we’ve moved past it! Besides—”

He let out a sigh.

“Look, this doesn’t excuse her behavior, but this isn’t about you. Mor’s got plenty of her own baggage she’s yet to fully square up with, and sometimes I think she chooses to get overly-invested in other people’s problems to avoid having to deal with her own.”

“I understand why she doesn’t care for me,” Nesta said. “If the situations were reversed, I’d likely feel the same way. I just—I don’t want you to lose friends because of me.”

“I haven’t lost anything,” Cash assured her. “Mor and I have been in much nastier fights than this before and we’ve always managed to patch things up. Besides, if she truly isn’t willing to give the woman I love a chance, she isn’t the friend I thought she was.”

Nesta nodded, desperate to take comfort in what he’d said about Mor and move on. Still, hearing the righteous venom Mor harbored had felt to Nesta the way she assumed opening that damned box had made Pandora feel, and now that the floodgates had been opened, she found there was one fear in particular she couldn’t shake. 

Unable to suppress the urge any longer, she finally asked, “And Aelin?”

“Aelin?” Cash asked, brows knitting. “What about her?”

“Please don’t play dumb,” Nesta said, hating the slight pleading in her voice. “I assume she hates me, too.”

Cash gave a wry smile that she couldn’t help but be slightly assuaged by. 

“On the contrary, Aelin has been picking out our wedding china since before we were even dating.”

Nesta huffed a laugh, and he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“And next to Rowan, Nehemiah is hands-down the most important person in Aelin’s life. Regardless of what she may have thought before, I guarantee that after what you did to help NeNe, you have a friend for life in Aelin.”

“I’m sorry,” Nesta said. “For causing all this. I didn’t—”

She broke off, and though Cash waited for her to finish, she realized after a beat she didn't actually know what to say.

“Nesta,” Cash said softly. “I love you. Nothing anyone else says will change my mind about that, and I am never going to let anyone tear you down, whether you think you deserve it or not.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” Nesta asked, tucking a strand of dark hair that had come loose behind his ear. 

Cash answering grin was soft and achingly lovely.

“Should I go alphabetically or chronologically?”

Nesta brushed his lips with the pads of her fingers, her own smile growing as well. It never ceased to amaze her how easily he could change her mood.

“Chronologically.”

“Okay,” Cash said, tugging her more fully into his lap so he could kiss her neck. “Then how about this morning in the shower?”

With similar schedules and a dual-head shower in the master bath, they showered together most mornings, a simple ritual that had nonetheless become one of Nesta’s favorites. 

Most days they merely shared the space in contented silence, focusing on their own tasks and only speaking to request the other fetch the shampoo or pass the body wash. However, when Nesta glanced over that morning just in time to watch Cash tip his head back to rinse his hair, water cascading down his toned back and over his gorgeously sculpted ass, she hadn’t been able to resist. Pushing him against the wall, she’d gotten on her knees and sucked him off until his eyes had rolled back in his head. 

They’d ended up staying in the shower until the water had gone tepid after that.

“That was mutual,” she reminded him. 

Cash grinned, leaning up to kiss her neck again.

“The sounds you make when I fuck your ass honestly make me feel like I’ve won the lottery,” he said against her skin.

“I know,” she said with a smirk, moving to slide off his lap. “You should probably start getting ready. You need to leave in an hour and a half.”

Cash was undeterred by her prudence. 

“That’s plenty of time,” he breathed, hitching up the pencil skirt she wore and toying with the waistband of her black silk thong. “Take these off and let me make you feel good.”

Nesta dug her nails into his toned shoulders, grinding against him almost involuntarily. 

“Here?” She asked, distracted by the fact he was already growing hard beneath her. 

“Study’s still on the list.”

It was a tempting offer, and though part of Nesta badly needed the distraction, the lingering guilt over what she’s wrought between Cash and Mor kept the worst of her selfish impulses in check.

“You went down on me in here last week,” she pointed out in deflection.

Cash, unsurprisingly, wasn’t deterred by this explanation.

“True,” he agreed. “But your sister called before I could make you come, so it doesn’t count,” he said, tugging her thong up until the fabric was roughly splitting her. “Don’t make me beg, gorgeous.”

She couldn’t hold back the groan when he gave another her thong coaxing tug, the material brushing against her unsheathed clit.

“I like when you beg,” she said, already growing breathless from his machinations. 

“What’s coincidence,” he said, leaning forward to nip at her ear. “I like when you beg, too.”

“I don’t beg,” she said, not quite ready to give up their little game despite her own growing anticipation for what was sure to follow.

Cash’s answering laugh was pure sin.

“Don’t tempt me to make a liar out of you, Nes. We both know that I could have you crawling on hands and knees for me if I wanted, and that you’d enjoy every sweet second of it.”

Nesta only smirked in response, sliding off his lap in a way that made him groan in pleasure. Slowly she retreated to the opposite wall before shucking the thong off from beneath her pencil skirt and kicking it to his feet in offering.  

Cash settled further into the plush velvet couch in answer, arms draped across the back and legs casually splayed. 

“Good girl. Now everything else,” he said in a silken command. 

She flashed him a tarty, ‘fuck-me’ smile. 

“Everything?”she repeated.

He studied her with a stark male appreciation that made her instantly wet, his gaze slithering  from her bare feet to the chignon still wound into her hair. 

“You can leave the earrings.”

“How generous,” she said, easing the hem of her silk blouse out from where it had been tucked into her skirt and beginning to unbutton it. 

Cash made a soft sound of appreciation as she finally slid the garment from her shoulders and tossed it onto a nearby club chair. 

His eyes glazed a bit as she reached behind her back to unfasten her bra next. When the clasp came free, she tossed the frilly scraps of evergreen lace into his lap. 

Though he hadn’t moved from his languid position on the couch, Nesta could clearly make out the consequence of her teasing as it pushed against the front of Cash’s trousers. 

“Don’t stop,” he urged, voice midnight soft now. 

Nesta obeyed, pulling the clip from her hair and giving it a soft shake before finally reaching for the zipper of her skirt. Cash was practically panting by the time Nesta began easing the garment down her thighs, and when she straightened to reveal her completely bare form, his eyes were dark with hunger. 

He surveyed her for a moment without comment, head slightly cocked as he admired her beneath the soft glow of the office’s recessed lighting. His gaze was like warm honey, sweetly clinging to every place on her body it touched. She felt her own desire coming alive under his unceasing attention, and she rubbed her legs together to ease the ache which had begun to throb between them. 

Sensing her impatience he finally rose, advancing on her with quiet intent before pushing her against the bookcase which had been built into the wall and kissing her. She moaned as he eased his tongue into her mouth, the soft material of his shirt brushing against her bare chest as he strung an arm around her waist and tugged her more fully into him.

She moaned again when his hand finally found its way between her thighs, but he only spared her a teasing stroke or two before coaxing her legs around his waist, carrying her to the center of the room and easing her onto the sheepskin rug.

She might have objected to being naked on the floor had the cleaning woman not been there the day before. Cash must have thought the same because he laughed; not at her, but in a way that told it safe to let go. 

“Relax for me, sweetheart,” he said, lips brushing a spot on her neck which instantly had her melting.

Noting the change, he huffed another soft laugh onto her skin, lightly grazing the same spot with his teeth before breathing, “good girl.”

Nesta wasn’t ashamed to admit what praise did for her in bed, but she had little time to revel in Cash’s words before he was easing his way down her body, lips brushing her ribs and the crease of her hip before his tongue lazily found its way directly between her legs.

She swore at the first contact, her fingers finding their way into the dark water of his hair and tugging as he applied a small amount of pressure just where she needed him.

She could still hear Mor’s venomous rebuke ringing in her ears, but the words grew fainter with each careful stroke of Cash’s tongue, her conscious mind yielding to pure sensation.

Despite the time constraint, Cash remained unhurried in his task, and Nesta was weak-kneed and covered in a thin sheen of sweat by the time release finally found her.

Cash pulled back slightly to survey her, a satisfied smirk tugging at his full mouth when he brushed a finger down her torso and she trembled in response. 

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he breathed, bending to kiss her.

“What time—” she began, but he cut her off with another kiss.

“It’s 7:15,” he said against her lips. “You still have plenty of time to get ready.”

However, when he attempted to pull back she dug her nails into his shoulders to keep him close. 

“Take your clothes off. I need you inside of me.”

His answering laugh skimmed across her bare skin like silk.

“As my lady commands.”

“Now, pleasant,” she said, pressing a teasing foot to the center of  his chest and nudging him back.

Cash laughed again before rising to his feet and beginning to undress. When he peeled off his shirt, her hand found its way between her legs almost of its own volition, moving lazily as she drank him in. 

“That’s it, gorgeous,” he said, hands at his belt buckle now. “keep going.”

“I’d rather have your fingers between my legs,” she admitted.

He chuckled.

“I wouldn’t. You know what watching you get yourself off does to me.”

“Maybe sometime you’ll let me watch you, Handsome.” 

They hadn’t experimented with mutual masturbation yet, but it was on Nesta’s list. 

By now Cash had shed his boxer briefs to reveal—unsurprisingly—that he was fully ready for her. 

“I could come just from the way you look at me,” he said, stroking himself as he once again knelt to join her. 

Before she could protest, he put his head between her thighs again, tongue focused solely on her clit as he continued working himself. When she felt herself begin to tip over the edge he pulled back, pressing a hand to the crease of her hip and sinking into her in a single motion. 

It was timed perfection she could only marvel at. In several quick thrusts the head of his cock scraped her g-spot just as her orgasm had been ready to fade, and she came hard.

“That’s it,” he said as she clenched around him, trembling. “Squeeze me, Nes.”

She panted as the sensations continued to ripple through her.

“How did you even—“

“Because I know this body even better than you do,” he said. “ Fuck , that was so hot to watch.”

“Ride me,” Nesta demanded in response. “Hard.”

“Flip over,” he said. 

She did, and he wasted no time in sinking inside of her again, one foot braced on the carpet for better leverage as he grabbed her hips.

“Keep touching yourself.”

“I’m not going to be able to come again,” she said. 

“We’ll see about that. Go on Lovely, do it for me.”

Her clit was still throbbing from his earlier machinations so Nesta kept her touch featherlight as he began to move. Instead of thrusting forward into her, Cash instead pulled her back onto him while Nesta rocked her weight in the opposite direction to create tension. It was a rhythm they’d discovered early on in their sexual odyssey, and the friction was blinding for both of them. 

The room filled with the sound of their bodies as they came together, and Nesta could feel the swing of Cash’s stones against her ass as he thrust, a depraved sensation that drove her out of her mind with want. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” she demanded. 

“I’m thinking that if this rug wasn’t three grand, I’d be tempted to pull out and come all over you.”

“You’re close?” 

“Oh God , yes.”

Nesta couldn’t help but preen at that.

“Keep talking,” she demanded, always greedy for as much of him as she could get.

And Cash, God love him, was always just as eager to oblige. 

“Do you know why I like to go down on you right before we have sex?”

“Tell me.”

His thrusts increased in intensity, a sign he was close. 

“Because your gorgeous little cunt is so tight, I’m never sure if I’ll be able to last long enough to give you an orgasm.”

“You’ve given me tons of vaginal orgasms,” Nesta panted.

“Only through sheer power of will. Fuck , Nes.”

She threw her hips back into Cash’s a final time and he was a goner.

He kneaded her ass with a firm grip as he emptied himself inside her, and though Nesta felt herself going boneless as the pleasure Cash had thrust her into finally began to relax its hold. 

Fisting her hair, Cash coaxed her head back for a soft kiss before pulling out and slapping her ass. 

“Go jump in the shower, I’ll join you in a second.”

Nesta  rose to her feet, keeping her thighs neatly tucked to avoid making a mess of the carpet after all. Cash marked the gesture before rewarding it with a cocky, bone-melting smirk. The Nesta of a year ago would have snarled at him for the stark appreciation shining in his eyes; today she could only marvel that he seemed to find her as desirable as she found him.

A beat of comfortable silence passed as they remained drinking one another in, and when Nesta’s gaze finally met Cash’s again, it was to find his expression had faded to something almost reverent, though the hunger remained.

“I know it probably makes me a total caveman, but I never get tired of seeing you full of me like that.”

The admission was so stark and primal that Nesta felt her belly clenching pleasantly.

“Maybe it does,” she agreed. “But I’m too much of a junkie for that look you’re giving me to care.”

Cash laughed.

“She digs the caveman vibe; good to know.”

Nesta rolled her eyes, even as she laughed a little herself. 

“Don’t push it,” she said, turning to the door and slipping down the hall to the bathroom.

Despite his promise, Nesta more than halfway through her post-sex shower ritual by the time Cash joined her, his touch warming her skin in a way the water alone never could.

“Are you going to miss me while I’m at dinner?” He asked, kissing her neck.

“Of course,” she said, leaning in as he nipped playfully at her ear.

“How much?” 

“Enough that I’m still debating if I ought to call a bomb threat into Mastro’s so dinner will have to be postponed.”

Normally Cash would have simply laughed at that, but he must have heard something in Nesta’s tone, because he pulled away slightly so he could study her, a frown tugging at his sensuous lips.

“Are you seriously nervous about tonight, because you have no reason to be; everyone is going to love you.”

“Everyone except Mor, you mean.”

Cash’s frown deepened, though his gaze remained almost unbearably tender.

“Don’t worry about her.”

“How can I not?”

“Nes—“

“It’s fine,” she said, slipping past him to grab her towel. She turned, forcing a smile as she reassured him, “I’m fine.”

She left before he could push the issue, trying to focus on getting ready as a means of distraction from Mor’s voice still echoing on repeat in her head.

Cash, for his part, seemed to sense she didn’t want to be pushed, because she was nearly through drying her hair by the time he finally re-emerged, dressed in a burgundy sport coat and slacks, his own hair pulled back in his typical style.

He didn’t immediately speak, simply leaned against the doorframe and watched her as she finished her hair and moved onto her makeup. 

She allowed his silent assessment for as long as she could bear before glancing up at him in the mirror and snapping, “what?”

Her tone was slightly sharper than she would have liked, but she was still learning how to accept his concern without defensiveness.

“Do you want me to cancel dinner?”

At this she stopped what she was doing, turning from her vanity to face him fully.

“Are you insane?”

“Gabriel already told me last week that I’m Dom’s top choice. If that’s true, then they will understand—”

“I’m sure it is true!” she interrupted. “But how could you possibly think I’d let you take that risk? Especially over something so trivial.”

“Your emotional safety isn’t trivial,” he said quietly. “Not to me.”

She felt herself softening at that, especially as she noted the unbearable tenderness which had crept into his expression.

“I know that,” she said. “But you should know that I would never let you give up something this important for my sake.”

“Fair enough,” he said, but before she could revel in the knowledge he wouldn’t be risking his career over something as petty and inconsequential as her feelings, he added, “then don’t go tonight. You can meet my friends another time.”

Nesta couldn’t hold back the surprised laugh which slipped out, the sound brittle even to her ears.

“And how will that look? You can’t make it so I just decide to bail?”

“I don’t really give a shit how it looks. I only care that you are alright.”

“I am,” she assured him, and seeing that she’d yet to fully convince him, she added, “At least, I’m getting there. I know what tonight means to you, and that’s important to me! Besides, I want a chance to get to know your friends and for them to get to know me. I can’t do that if I spend the rest of our relationship casually hiding from them.”

Cash’s expression didn’t change, but Nesta could tell the idea pleased him, which only hardened her resolve to see things through.

“You’re sure?” He said.

“Seeing as we already know that my biggest detractor won’t be there, how bad can it be?” Nesta said, turning back and flashing him a sardonic smirk in the mirror.

“Too soon,” Cash said with a huffed laugh, coming over to kiss her cheek before adding more quietly, “I love you.”

In lieu of responding, she reached back to string a hand around his neck, scraping her nails along the nape in a gesture she knew soothed him.

They remained there for a long moment in comfortable silence before Cash gently extricated himself.

“I’ll let you finish getting ready,” he said. “I’m not leaving for another twenty minutes.”

Nesta nodded, leaning into him for another kiss on the cheek before attending to her makeup.

Cash was sitting at the kitchen island reviewing LVMH’s latest earning statement when Nesta finally emerged, the soft rustle of her sequined mini dress the only sound as Cash eyed her appreciatively.

“You like?” She asked, reaching the landing and giving a turn to show the open back and dangerously-short hem. “It’s new.”

“You look stunning,” he replied, eyes twinkling. “Though I would argue that has very little to do with the dress.”

She rolled her eyes even as she draped an arm over his shoulders and settled into his lap. She didn’t miss the way his gaze flitted to the forbidden stretch of thigh which was revealed as her skirt rode up to accommodate the new position.

“I assume LVMH is sending a car?”

Cash nodded, smoothing a hand down said thigh and causing Nesta’s skin to tingle.

“Should be here in five.”

She nodded, preparing to ask if he was ready for the meeting when he spoke first.

“Okay, last offer, hear me out.”

“Cash—” she began, attempting to stand up even as he coaxed her to remind where she was.

“I can tell Az we’ll just meet him at the club, then you can hang out here and wait for me and we can go toge—”

“Don’t do that, he’s probably already on his way,” Nesta cut in. “And I said I’ll be fine, so I will be. Just…stop, please.”

Cash opened his mouth as if he wanted to argue before his phone dinged, signaling his driver had arrived. 

“Go,” she said, sliding to her bare feet. “You don’t want to be late.”

After a final moment’s hesitation he did the same, straightening his slacks as she grabbed his sports coat from the back of a nearby stool and held it out for him.

He obliged her, slipping his arms through and shrugging it on as Nesta came around to adjust the collar. She sometimes forgot just how much taller he was than her when she wasn’t in her typical heels, and she had to rise to her tip-toes to kiss him.

“Go kill it,”she said against his lips. “You’ve earned this.”

He brushed his nose against hers in response, an affectionate gesture that still made butterflies dance in Nesta’s stomach every time. 

She could tell that Cash was fighting with the urge to offer her one final out on the evening’s festivities, but she was grateful when he chose to simply kiss her instead.

“Have fun with the boys,” he said. “I shouldn’t be more than an hour or two behind you.”

“Take you time,” she said firmly. “From everything you’ve shared, I don’t see Rhysand ending the party anytime before daybreak.”

“How very terrifying and true,” he said, eyes full of all the things still left unsaid as he grabbed his phone, blew her a kiss, and jogged down the stairs to the front door. 

Nesta felt some of the fight go out of her as she listened to the door open and shut, the telltale chime of the security system being re-armed echoing up a second later.

The plan to have Azriel meet them at the townhouse for drinks prior to joining up with Rhys and the rest of their cabal had been made before Cash had known he’d be entertaining the Dom execs, and though Nesta had been adamant that they needn’t change the plan simply because Cash wouldn’t be there, she couldn’t help but wonder at her own stubbornness as she waited nervously for Azriel to arrive.

On the one hand, Nesta’s initial interaction with Azriel had been entirely pleasant, and had left her with an adequate degree of certainty that—despite the Owen debacle—she and Az could get on just fine without Cash present to act as a buffer. 

However, Mor’s assessment earlier had challenged any confidence Nesta may have had when it came to Cash’s friends. Perhaps she’d been arrogant to think that Rhys and Aelin were the only one she had to be worried about winning over tonight, even with Mor temporarily out of the picture. After all, Rhys may have been Mor’s cousin, but it was clear to Nesta that Azriel and Mor had some kind of history.

Cash had never fully explained what—if anything—had gone down between them, but Nesta had always gotten the sense from his stories that Azriel had carried a torch for Mor at some point. It was only just occurring to Nesta that he very well still could. Perhaps all of Azriel’s seemingly meaningless flings were just a distraction from the girl he wanted but couldn’t have. 

And even if he didn’t have romantic feelings for her, it was clear that Mor’s opinion was incredibly important to Azriel.

What was it that Cash had said earlier?

 He’s never going to be able to open up enough to meet someone when he’s terrified you won’t approve of anyone he picks. 

If Mor voiced her concerns about Nesta to Cash, it was entirely possible (and indeed fairly probable) that she’d shared the same—or worse—with Azriel. And even if she hadn’t, what was to say that he hadn’t come to his own unfavorable conclusion about Nesta after the Vegas trip? She could only imagine what he’d heard and seen that weekend, and frankly she couldn’t blame him if he’d decided that he hated her, too.

Nesta’s heart rate kicked up as she considered the increasingly-grim possibilities. Perhaps she’d been too quick to reject Cash’s offer to send Azriel ahead. If she hadn’t—

Nesta’s phone chimed to signal a notification, and she’d been so deeply engrossed in her catastrophizing that the sound startled an undignified shriek out of her. Pressing a hand to her chest in an attempt to slow her hammering heart, she glanced down to see an alert from the Ring app signaling someone was at the door. 

Having no time left with which to ponder her potential evisceration, Nesta simply exhaled a steadying breath before heading down the stairs and disarming the security system.

Nesta felt some of her initial apprehension melt away as she pulled open the door to find that—far from the anger or aloofness she’d feared—Azriel was actually smiling, a modest bouquet of tulips tucked under one arm.

Much like the first time Nesta had met him, Azriel was in all black, from his silk bomber jacket to the well-tailored Japanese denim he wore, his designer boots—Prada, if Nesta had to guess—shined to perfection.

“For you,” Azriel said in greeting, extending the flowers, already neatly trimmed and arranged in a stylish vase, before flashing another soft smile. “I would normally have just brought a bottle of wine, but given what Cash has told me about your incredible palette, I didn’t want to embarrass myself by bringing something terrible.”

“These are lovely,” Nesta assured him. “Please, come in.”

Azriel gave a polite nod and stepped past her, waiting as she re-armed the door before following her up the stairs to the main living space. She thought to offer him a tour before remembering he’d already seen the place when Cash first moved in with her, so instead she opted for what she hoped was amiable silence as she set down the flowers on the island.

“Can I get you something to drink?” She asked, turning to the fridge in an effort to mask her unease. 

Despite Azriel’s warm greeting and the flowers he’d brought, Nesta felt her nerves lingering. However, not wanting to dwell on the stakes, she simply forged on.

“I have water, wine, beer, some of those disgusting hard seltzers....”

When Azriel still didn’t reply, she glanced up to see wry amusement sparkling in his eyes, brows slightly raised.

“I have two college-age sisters,” she explained. “Feyre in particular has terrible taste in beverages.”

Azriel huffed a polite laugh, though the slight flush in his cheeks told Nesta he’d been perhaps warned off making any comment about the youngest Archeron, even if it was friendly.

Smart man.

Instead he said, “If I asked for a shot of tequila, would you join me?”

Nesta smiled, retreating to the liquor cabinet and fetching a bottle of reposado and two rocks glasses. 

“I should have known,” she said, pouring the golden liquor into both glasses before raising one to him in a toast. “Cash said you’d be the one to watch out for; the knife in the dark.”

At this Azriel laughed outright, his impeccably straight teeth on display as he raised his own glass. It was a deep, rich sound, made all the more satisfying by the knowledge that it had been earned. 

“I’ve been to this club before,” he explained. “Trust me when I say it’s not a place you want to go sober.”

It surprised Nesta a little that Azriel—for whom a weekend in Ibiza had been a self-professed torture—was nevertheless familiar with some gaudy nightclub in a city almost 400 miles away from his own. 

She opened her mouth to say as much before remembering Cash’s sly remarks about Azriel’s dating life. It seemed a reasonable bet that the last time that Azriel had gone to Divinity, it hadn’t been for the shitty music or overpriced cocktails. 

Still, that wasn’t any of Nesta’s business, so she instead replied, “I will drink to that,” tapping his glass and throwing the shot back. It didn’t burn the way the cheap tequila she’d always drank in college had, instead warming her belly as it settled in her stomach. 

She poured them each a second measure of tequila—this one for sipping on—and gestured Azriel take a seat on one of the barstools studded around the large granite island. 

There was a measure of surprisingly comfortable silence as they both took a sip of their refreshed drinks, and Nesta cast around for something polite for them to talk about before the moment stretched too long. 

Nesta hadn’t forgotten the comments both Cash and Azriel himself had made about Azriel’s family, but unsure of where else to begin, she began carefully, “Cash mentioned you met in London. Are you from the UK originally?”

He didn’t have an accent, but that didn’t mean much. Perhaps he’d trained himself out of it as a means of transformation. If there was one thing that Nesta felt certain of in regards to Azriel Macar, it was that the man who stood before her today—hair impeccably styled and clothes tailored to perfection—was a facade crafted with the same artistry which had made him so successful as a designer. 

The real Azriel, Nesta sensed, was hidden somewhere beneath all the trappings of wealth and success, and for a reason she couldn’t fathom, the idea he felt the need to keep himself disguised made Nesta’s chest ache a bit. 

Azriel huffed a quiet, humorless laugh at the question, and Nesta wondered if—however innocuous—it had been the wrong one to ask. However, after another small sip of his drink, Azriel met her gaze, expression steady but guarded. 

“Hardly,” he said before glancing back down into his glass. “I grew up in Oklahoma.”

It had been the last thing Nesta had expected, and her struggle to master herself earned a laugh from Azriel, this one slightly easier. 

“You seem surprised,” he mused.

“I’m sorry,” she said, cheeks flushing a little. “I—”

“Don’t be,” Azriel said. “I’d have been offended if you hadn’t been. It’s a Hellhole.” He gave another humorless laugh. “Which is ironic considering churches practically outnumbered people in the town I grew up in.”

Not wanting to offend him by saying the wrong thing, Nesta settled for what felt like the safest option.

“I’ve never been to Oklahoma,” she offered. “The closest I’ve come is Dallas, and I can’t say I’m a huge fan of that, either.”

“Oh agreed,” Azriel said. “Though I wouldn’t say that in front of Rhys; you’ll break his bougie black heart. He loves Dallas.”

“For some reason that doesn’t surprise me,” Nesta admitted, and Azriel smiled.

“Then you’re a quick study.”

They fell into another comfortable silence as Nesta turned the comment over and over in his mind, debating the merits of voicing the question dangling on the tip of her tongue. The potential for blowback if she overstepped remained a clear and present danger, but Azriel’s relaxed demeanor emboldened her to take the risk.

“So…Rhysand,” she began, trying to keep her tone casual rather than anxious or over-eager. “Any tips?”

Azriel paused at this, his glass halfway to his mouth as he raised his eyebrows. Not as if he were offended by the question, but rather to indicate he hadn’t been expecting it. 

He took a sip of his drink in lieu of giving an immediate answer. Nesta wasn’t sure what to make of this stall tactic, but she resisted the urge to fill the silence, waiting instead for him to speak.

Finally he said, “Rhys is like skiing. Easy to learn but difficult to master. When I first met him, it took me all of ten minutes to decide I had him all figured out and that I fucking hated him. Now we’ve been best friends for almost five years, and he still finds ways to surprise the hell out of me on a regular basis. Still, chances are that even if you don’t want to like him, you still will. He’s inevitable in that way.”

“And what about the people he doesn’t like?” She asked carefully.

Azriel’s smile had grown soft and slightly more elusive, but he answered gamely, “I don’t think Rhys has ever met a female he didn’t like.” 

She didn’t know why she said it, but Nesta found herself blurting, “first time for everything, I suppose.”

It was more vulnerability than she’d wanted to show, and seeing the smile slip from Azriel’s face, she knew at once she’d said the wrong thing.

However, he didn’t immediately clap back like she feared he would, instead seeming almost...concerned.

“I know we don’t know each other that well,” he said after a beat, “but can I be...honest for a second?”

“Please,” Nesta said, despite the fact she wasn’t at all sure she was ready for whatever it was he had to say.

“I assume this has to do with Mor.”

It wasn’t a question, but it certainly answered any doubt Nesta had over whether Mor had voiced her dislike to the rest of the group.

“What makes you say that?” Nesta said, annoyed at herself for the tartness which had slid into her voice.

However, if her curt tone bothered Azriel, he didn’t show it. Instead he merely nodded, seeming to weigh his next statement before continuing on.

“I usually try to stay out of the inter-group politicking because there are enough busy-bodies in this crew as it is, but I will say this: Mor is entitled to her opinion; don’t make the mistake of assuming it’s an opinion that everyone shares.” 

“I wouldn’t blame you or Rhysand if you didn’t like me,” she admitted, fighting the urge to grow defensive in her vulnerability.

Azriel only shrugged. 

“Like I said, it’s not my style to insert myself into other people’s business, but…” 

He paused for a second to meet her eye before quietly adding, “I saw what was done to that bookcase, Nesta. Mor didn’t.”

Nesta felt a lump swelling in her throat at the memory, Tomás’s screaming still echoing faintly in her ears.

“That’s probably more grace than I deserve, but thank you.”

Azriel nodded again, looking down into the swirling remains of his drink before adding, “And for what it’s worth, you should know that Cash has never said one ugly thing about you, even in Vegas. He had every opportunity to tear you to pieces that weekend, and he never did.”

“I think that says more about his character than mine,” Nesta admitted, “But I can’t deny it’s a relief to hear.”

“Cash may seem carefree, but I don’t think I need to tell you that everything he does, he does with intention. That includes the company he chooses to keep.”

There was a finality to the way Azriel said it, as if he’d finally exceeded his limit for getting mixed up in his friends’ personal lives and was hoping to change the subject. 

Nesta rewarded his tacit request by refilling both their glasses and saying, “So, as two people who don’t like clubs, any idea what we can expect from tonight?”

“A bloody nightmare,” Azriel said half under his breath, accepting his glass back from her and taking a healthy drink. “Rhys promised we wouldn’t have to be there all night, so I’m praying he can accomplish whatever required schmoozing quickly so we can fuck off to somewhere slightly less atrocious.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Nesta said, raising her glass in salutation and taking a generous swig.

The conversation flowed fairly effortlessly after that, shifting from the friend group to Azriel’s work. He’d seemed hesitant to discuss it at first, as if he were afraid he might bore her if he talked about himself or his own interests for more than a sentence or two. However, once she’d coaxed him into opening up slightly, no doubt aided in her effort by the tequila, she found they had no shortage of topics to discuss. 

Beyond his own work, Azriel was a walking encyclopedia on the history of modernist architecture and design, and he was effortless in his ability to recite fascinating anecdotes about the movement��s pioneers. The way his eyes lit up as he regaled her with a story about Frank Lloyd Wright reminded Nesta of the look Elain always wore when discussing the Papal intrigue of Quattrocento Rome, and she envisioned—not for the first time—how well those two would likely get on were they to ever meet.

Nesta was surprised when she glanced at the oven clock and realized it was nearly 11:30. Azriel must have seen it too, because he drained his glass and reached for his coat.

“I’ve unfortunately exhausted all my tactics for delaying the inevitable,” Azriel said, pulling up the Uber app on his phone and showing Nesta that their driver was six minutes away. “Shall we?”

It was nearing midnight by the time they reached the white lacquered doors of Divinity, a throng of club hopefuls already beginning to amass behind the velvet rope which snaked off to the right of the entrance.

It was only then that Nesta realized they’d never been given any instruction on how or where to find the others. However, Azriel seemed to know the drill, because he skirted the line and went to the bouncer guarding the other side of the rope, presumably the entrance for VIP guests.  It didn’t take more than the words “Rhysand Sadaghi” to get them through the rope and following a hostess to what she continued to remind them was the club’s “premiere suite”. 

The farther they traveled into the space, the louder the hypnotic bass became until they were skirting the massive dance floor en route to a private balcony fashioned to look like a giant cloud suspended in mid-air. Nesta swore as she picked her way up the narrow staircase leading to the box, praying none of the smarmy-looking douchebags below would think to look up. If they did, she was fairly sure they'd have a full view up her skirt through the translucent steps. 

Finally, they reached the landing, and Nesta permitted herself one last steadying breath before accepting Azriel’s hand to clear the final stair.

The suite seemed to be divided into two chambers separated by a silk curtain. The initial space was currently unoccupied, but through the partition in the silk, Nesta spotted a single figure lounging in a plush armchair as it if were a throne, a drink balanced lazily on a knee as he surveyed the crowd below. However, she had less than a second to study him before he took notice of their arrival, his arms outstretched as his mouth split into a breath-taking grin.

Rhysand Sadeghi was gorgeous almost beyond comprehension. The picture of elegance and obscene wealth, he was as tall as Azriel and just as well-built, with glittering azure eyes and a smile bright enough to dazzle even in the semi-darkness. 

On paper his beauty was profuse to the point of revulsion—his eyes too blue, his lips too full, his cheekbones too sharp. In short, Rhysand should have been too pretty to actually be attractive. But there was something so devilishly human in the arch of his dark brows and the curve of his smile that made him, hands-down, the most handsome man Nesta had ever met. 

But not, she noted with a swell of pleasant emotion, the most attractive. Rhysand may have been physical perfection, but he would never be more beautiful to her than Cash; no man would. 

Rhysand gave a cat-like smile as he approached, straightening the lapels of his Armani suit jacket as if he were preparing to step into a business meeting. The crisp shirt beneath had the first several buttons undone, and Nesta could see the making of what was clearly a very intricate chest piece tattoo peaking above the collar, the swirling lines matching the designs which covered the backs of each of his hands.

“Nesta,” he said in greeting, tone warm as if they were old friends. “Finally. I was starting to worry that Cash was hiding you from me.”

His English accent was clipped but smooth, a clear product of his education at Eton and Oxford. 

Nesta turned to allow him to brush a kiss on her cheek. 

“So you’re the philandering rake I’ve heard so much about,” she said as they pulled away. 

It was perhaps a somewhat risky thing to say considering how badly she wanted Cash’s friends to like her, but Rhysand’s answering smile indicated he enjoyed a good verbal spar.

“And you’re even more beautiful than Cash described,” he shot back easily. “Careful, I might be tempted to steal you for myself.”

Nesta hit him with an expression Cash had affectionately termed “Disney Villainess.”

“I don’t know if I’m expected to laugh in your face, or slap you across it.”

Rhys only tipped his head back and laughed as Azriel said from behind her, “A fairly common reaction to meeting him, I’d say.”

“Drink?” Rhys asked, gesturing to the various champagne buckets scattered around the space. “What can I get you?”

He was already pouring a whiskey for Azriel before patting his friend affectionately on the cheek, a gesture which Azriel swatted away. 

“No special friend with you tonight, brother? Cash said it’s been a proper revolving door since you moved to LA!”

“Oh fuck off,” Azriel said, tone light even as his cheeks pinked. “You’re just jealous.”

“Maybe I am,” Rhys said, shooting Nesta a wink. “Champagne, Nesta?”

“Please,” she said, noting the bottle of $500 Armand de Brignac nestled in the closest chiller. Being around this level of wealth was going to take some getting used to. She seemed to sense that Rhys was waiting for her to take a sip, so she did.

“It’s lovely,” she said. “Thank you.”

Rhys grinned. 

“I’m so pleased you like it. Cash says you have a palette for wine that’s destined to put the rest of us to shame.”

Just then another dark-haired man appeared from the darkness, bending to speak quietly in Rhys's ear. Nesta noted the radio at his belt and the gun at his hip, and the way his dark eyes shone with an alacrity which told her he was stone-cold sober. 

When the man straightened up, Rhys gestured to him with a smile. 

“This is my bodyguard, Adan. Donnie, this is Cash’s better half, if you can believe that.”

“Nice to meet you,” Adan said, voice thick with a French accent. “Welcome to the court of nightmares.”

Rhys’s crushing blue eyes glittered as he laughed. 

“Nightmares? Brother, this is a court of dreams! Algerians take everything too seriously,” He added with a smile. “Relax, Don.”

Adan rolled his eyes and snapped a retort in French, though his body language suggested he wasn’t actually bothered. Rhys only laughed in response before offering a rapid reply in the same language.

“Shall we, then?” Rhys said, ushering Nesta forward while keeping his hand a respectful distance from her low back.

“Your timing is impeccable as always, Az,” Rhys said, dropping onto one of the low couches with a lazy grace before kicking his feet up on the glass table. “Even five minutes earlier and you’d have been forced to make small talk with the owner. The man’s a complete knob.”

“Sorry to have missed him,” Azriel said wryly, appraising the space with a designer’s critical eye.

Rhys seemed to note Azriel’s assessment, because he gestured to their surroundings and asked, “So, what do you think?”

Azriel’s lip curled in disgust, the most expression Nesta had ever seen him show.

“It’s fucking horrendous.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Rhys said with a grin. “Wouldn’t buy this place if it were free.”

Azriel rolled his eyes, though there was no malice in the gesture.

“If that’s true, then what are we doing here?”

“You mean besides running up an obscene tab on the ownership’s dime? We’re celebrating.”

Az simply rolled his eyes again, but Nesta shrugged. 

“I’ll bite; celebrating what?

“The successful culmination of a well-deserved revenge plot.”

“I’m officially intrigued,” Nesta said, and Rhys flashed her a bone-melting smirk.

“I thought you might be,” he replied, drawing a cigar from his inside pocket before lighting it and settling back into his seat.

“Six months ago the prick who owned this place called me wanting to see if we’d be interested in going in with his group on a joint venture for a new property they wanted to open in Miami. They’ve been wanting to break into the market but didn’t have the contacts to do it, so they were hoping I could provide leverage. I said I’d consider it, but the financials didn’t pencil so I thanked him for the offer but told him we were going to pass.” 

Rhysand paused to take a casual sip of his drink before continuing on.

“A few days later he pocket dials me. I was getting ready to hang up when I realized he happened to be talking about me to a colleague. Didn’t catch the whole conversation, but considering the fact I stayed on the line long enough to hear him refer to me as a ‘towel-headed terrorist”, I think I got the gist.”

The champagne she’d been enjoying moments earlier turned immediately sour in Nesta’s mouth. It wasn’t always easy being a woman—particularly in a chauvinistic, ego-centric industry like hers—but even with all the wayward comments and veiled jabs she’d endured over the years, she couldn’t imagine what it must feel like to be on the receiving end of that kind of ugliness. Glancing between Rhys and Azriel, she could see in their expressions the same bleakness she sometimes glimpsed on Cash’s face, a stark reminder of the realities of racism they didn’t have the privilege of ignoring. It made Nesta want to hunt this hideous prick down and bury her stiletto into his jugular.

Azriel, for his part, only gave an unamused snort, gaze going cold. “He should meet my brother Tanner. Sounds like the two of them would get along great.”

“Indeed,” Rhysand said, his own smile razored. “I won’t bore you with the gory details, but the long and short of it is that while he’s been kissing my ass the last three days thinking I’m interested in investing in this dump, my lawyers have been finalizing a deal to buy the property across the street.”

“So you can rub what an asshole he is in his face for the rest of eternity?” Azriel asked.

Rhys opened his mouth to reply, but Nesta beat him to it.

“You wanted him to open his books,” she said, reading Rhys’s cold smile. “You needed to see his balance sheet so you’d know what it would take to put this place underwater.”

He nodded, grin widening.

“Turns out that in addition to being an ignorant piece of shit, dude’s also an idiot,” Rhys said, smoke slithering through his lips as he took another drag from his cigar. “His distributor’s been fleecing him on booze. I already have a supplier lined up who’s willing to sell to me at cost, which means I will be able to charge 30% less per drink while maintaining the same margin. This place will be lucky to last six months.”

At this his crushing gaze met Nesta’s, and she couldn't decide if he was seeking her approval or illustrating the power he had to destroy people who crossed him. The fear that it had been the latter had the instinct to go on the defensive flaring, but Nesta forced the urge down, merely raising her glass to him instead. 

“All’s well that ends well, then.”

“I wouldn’t start gloating just yet,” Azriel said. “It’s gonna take more than cheaper drinks to thin this herd.”

He gestured to the packed throng of revelers below.

Rhys remained unruffled.

“True, but when have you ever known me to not hedge my bets?”

“Let me guess: you’ve convinced some Kardashian sibling to come on opening weekend and lie to their billion followers about how great it is.”

“Kardashians? You’ve got to learn to dream bigger, Azzy!”

“We’re not going to play twenty questions with you about it,” Azriel shot back mildly. “So either tell us what you’ve got up your sleeve or I’m changing the subject. Cash won’t thank you for boring Nesta to death within the first twenty minutes.”

Rhys laughed, undimmed by Azriel’s slightly-acerbic wit. It made Nesta like Rhysand slightly more than she otherwise might have, knowing that his wasn't the sort of ego that was so large it had grown inflexible.

“Conn agreed to a two-week residency when the place opens,” Rhys explained instead. “ People are going to forget this joint even exists when they find out he’s performing at such an intimate venue.”

Azriel gave an appreciative chuckle, clearly understanding who that was and what it meant. Nesta, on the other hand, didn’t have the slightest clue. 

Part of her didn’t want to give Rhysand the satisfaction of asking in the event he’d only brought it up as a means of making her feel foolish for not knowing. However, a glance up at him showed that the chilly gleam in his eye from earlier had softened to pure amusement, and she decided to play nice by saying, “I admit I don’t frequent enough clubs to know what that means.”

“If we said the name ConMan, would that mean anything to you?” Azriel asked.

Actually it did. ConMan’s signature was blending classical movements by Mozart and Bach with modern electronic music, and though Nesta wasn’t usually one for house or EDM, she admittedly had more than one ConMan track on her gym playlist.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re friends with one of the most famous DJs in the world,” she said to Rhysand, and he laughed again

“Actually I met him through Cash. They grew up together in Hawai’i.”

Now it was Nesta who wanted to laugh. In all the stories Cash had told about his childhood friends, including the twins—Fen and Connall0—he’d failed to mention that one of them happened to have a Vegas residency. She loved that about him, that he wasn’t one to drop names or lord his impressive friends over her.

“I don’t know how you feel about house music,” Rhys continued, “But you should come see him spin. He’s incredible on stage. Watching him perform, you’d never guess what a massive homebody he actually is.”

“I don’t know how he does it,” Azriel added, the whiskey stones in his drink clinking as he rotated the contents with a practiced flick of his wrist. “If I were Connall, I would have faked my own death years ago.”

“I do love that the two biggest introverts I know both ended up being famous,” Rhys said with a grin.

Azriel rolled his eyes.

“I am not famous.”

Rhys only bubbled his lips.

“Bruv, you were featured in Vogue. Give it up already.”

Recognizing that Azriel was currently her closest ally in the fight to win over Cash’s friends, Nesta decided to throw him a bone and redirect the spotlight by asking, “How well do you two know the Hawai’i boys? They seem like a fun bunch.”

“Nah, they're all assholes,” a voice echoed from beyond the gauzy curtain.

They all turned at the intrusion, Rhys whistling appreciatively and rising to his feet as Rowan Whitethorn cleared the last of the stairs and emerged into the lounge.

“There he is,” Rhys said. “Nice hair, brother!” 

Rowan grinned as he ran a tattooed hand through the grey strands, which gleamed silver under the club’s sleek lights.

Rhys was right; it was quite different than Nesta had ever remembered it looking. Though he still wore it in an undercut, the sides were now almost to the skin and the top longer and more ostentatiously styled, making him look less clean-cut and more...dangerous.

Nesta didn’t have to wonder too long at the change. When she’d asked Cash why he  hadn’t been seeing as much of Rowan—worried that he was still avoiding his friends because of her—Cash had made a vague remark about Ro’s current caseload requiring him to work extra hours. Seeing Rowan now, she suspected that ‘extra hours’ had actually been a euphemism for working undercover. 

Rowan only smirked at Rhys’s assessment, their vibe easier than Nesta might have imagined. But then, that was the magic of Cash; he could bring anyone together.

“I’m trying something new,” Ro offered coyly.

“I like it,” Rhys said. 

Rowan's smile grew a little, green eyes flicking up to Rhys’s own dark hair, which was styled in a similar manner.

“I bet you do.”

“I can’t resist a bit of drama,” Rhys admitted before glancing behind Rowan. “No Ace tonight?”

Rowan's face fell slightly even as he accepted a drink from Rhys and smiled at Nesta and Azriel in greeting. 

“She and NeNe were playing in a tournament in Latvia until yesterday, and her flight out of Riga got canceled because of staffing shortages with the airlines. Don’t get me started.”

For her part, Nesta couldn’t decide if she should be disappointed or relieved. She hadn’t been lying all those months ago when she’d told Cash she liked Aelin already. But after Mor...Nesta wasn’t sure how much hope she could realistically harbor that Aelin would ever like her back. 

She was saved from her self-improvised spiral by Rowan, who’d finished greeting Azriel and turned his full attention on her.

“Nesta,” he said, brushing a soft kiss on her cheek the same way Rhys had. “Good to see you.”

His smile was full of meaning, and she found herself flushing a little.

“You don’t seem...surprised. To see me.”

Didn’t seem disappointed, she didn’t need to say. She could see in his eyes that he knew what she meant, and the way they softened at the corners told her that he was genuinely glad she was with Cash, even after all her mistakes.

“Can’t say I am,” he said, accepting a whiskey from Rhys with a nod. “I had faith you two would...figure it out when you were ready.”

“I’m sorry Aelin’s not here,” Nesta said, hesitating for only a second before admitting, “I was looking forward to finally getting to meet her.”

“She’s gutted to have missed it,” Rowan said. “If there was any way she could have been here, she would have.”

Rhys and Az traded a furtive glance at this, but before Nesta could worry at what it might mean, Rowan flashed a soft smile, the sincerity in it putting her at ease.

“It really is a shame she’s not here,” Rhys said as they resettled. “I like to think she would have really appreciated the unholy douchbaggery of this place.”

“That’s because she’s a godless hedonist,” Rowan said, expression neutral but tone full of affection. “Why do you think she likes hanging out with you so much?”

“You’re just lucky you met her first,” Rhys shot back easily.

Remembering how Rowan had reacted when Eris had dared to make a comment about Aelin, Nesta half expected Rowan to clap back. Instead, he only grinned, clearly at-ease with this dynamic.

“Please,” he said, taking another sip of his drink. “You two would tear each other apart.”

“Agreed,” Azriel said mildly. “She’d have your sensitive little ass in tears the first time you got into a disagreement.”

“Fuck you both,” Rhys said, grinning now too. 

Friends, Nesta realized. These three, despite all their perceived differences, were genuinely friends in their own right, even when Cash wasn’t around.

“Honestly, Sadeghi,” Rowan said, “I can’t wait to meet the girl you end up with. She's going to need the patience of a saint to deal with your…”

Rowan trailed off, head cocking towards the new song currently building in the space below. Nesta didn’t recognize it, but it was hypnotic and dark, admittedly a lot better than the manic-tempo shit they’d previously been playing.

Rowan remained on alert, listening intently, and finally Nesta asked, “Is everything alright?” 

“This is Ace and NeNe’s warmup track,”Rowan said, seeming almost dazed. “Connall made it for them specifically after Aelin complained women's sports don’t get the same pre-game hype.”

“How annoyingly true,” Rhys said with an almost-theatrical frown.

Despite his disapproving words, Nesta didn’t miss the undercurrent of self-satisfaction in Rhys’s tone.  Rowan clearly hadn’t missed it either, because his head instead snapped back to Rhys, his expression caught between confusion and excitement.

“Is this you?” He said, gesturing to the speakers.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Rhys said, blue eyes glittering with delight.

Rhys’s reaction, despite meaning absolutely nothing to Nesta, seemed to confirm something for Rowan, and he leapt to his feet.

“No way,” he said, a smile growing on his face now. “Even you couldn’t pull something like that off.”

Rhys pretended to buff his nails on his lapel.

“Couldn’t I, though?” He said with exaggerated self-importance before gesturing to the dance floor below with his eyes.

Rowan leapt up, running to the balcony to peer over it. Still unsure of what the fuck was going on, Nesta followed, reaching the balcony just as the beat dropped, everyone in the crowd seeming to pulse in time with the music. 

That was, everyone but three people, who were instead cutting a distinct path away from the stage and towards the roped-off stairs.

Even if Nesta had not recognized the gorgeous blonde leading the trio, Rowan’s reaction to seeing her would have been enough to tell her who it was.

Rowan was in motion at once, abandoning his drink on the nearby table and taking the stairs two at a time. He ignored the belch of fake fog which exploded around him as his foot reached the last stair, because by that time the blonde had noticed him as well, and in two long strides she was in his arms, the hem of her tight dress riding dangerously high as she wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him.

“Nice work, brother,” Azriel said, extending his knuckles to a preening Rhysand. “Wasn’t sure you were going to be able to pull it off.”

By now Rowan and Aelin had finished their steamy reunion and were heading back up the stairs, Aelin tucked comfortably under Rowan’s muscled arm as they continued to grin at one another.

Finally Rowan turned back to Rhys, laughing a little.

“You sneaky bastard! All those questions about Ace not being here when you knew full well she was already on her way!”

“You know Aelin tears are my kryptonite,” Rhys said, winking at a beaming Aelin. “When she called me crying earlier saying her flight had been canceled, how could I leave her stranded, especially when I knew my father’s jet was sitting idle in London?”

It was then that Rhys finally came into greater focus for Nesta. If Cash was the group’s unifying thread, weaving all the disparate personalities into a single, tight-knit clan, then Rhys was its magic wand, trailing sparks through the air and achieving the seemingly impossible with a flick of the wrist. 

It would have been easy to attribute it to his extreme wealth, but watching him now, Nesta could see it was more than that. Yes, money had a way of making big problems seem small, but the finesse with which Rhys handled roadblocks told her that he was neither as frivolous nor as rash as he liked to pretend.

And he hadn’t just done it to prove he could, Nesta realized. He’d done it knowing what even one extra day together would mean for Aelin and Rowan, and so that Aelin wouldn’t have to miss out on this rare opportunity for them to spend time together as a group. It was clear watching them interact how much they all meant to one another, and how much they cherished any time they got to spend in one another’s company. More than friends, it was clear this group was more like a second family, even scattered as they were across the globe. And it was all because of Cash.

Nesta watched the joyous reunion unfold without comment, feeling so caught up in the moment that she’d nearly forgotten her own outsider status. It wasn’t until Aelin finished greeting the others that Nesta remembered herself at last, the same anxieties which had plagued her all week swelling with renewed urgency.

A quick glance over Aelin’s shoulder revealed wary expressions on both Rhys and Rowan’s faces, as if they too weren’t sure how this meeting would play out. 

It was only when Aelin’s stunning blue eyes fell on Nesta that the latter realized how badly she wanted this woman to like her, despite all the legitimate reasons Aelin—like Mor—had to dislike her.

To aate her even.

It was too late for all of that though, as Aelin was making her way over, her slinky gown glittering like molten gold under the lights. Nesta guessed that even barefoot Aelin must have been over six feet, but she towered close to Rowan’s height in her spindly heels, making Nesta feel positively minuscule in comparison. 

Still, she did her best to steel her nerves, unsure whether to extend her hand as she forced herself to meet Aelin’s gaze and say, “I’m Nesta.”

“I know,” Aelin said, not extending her hand either.

Unease sluiced through Nesta as she tried to decipher Aelin’s tone. However, before she could worry about what to do next, Aelin continued.

“I know we don’t really know each other, but…” she paused, glancing over her shoulder at Rowan before turning back to Nesta and continuing,  “Can I hug you?”

It wasn’t what Nesta had expected, but she nodded, extending her own arms with a slightly-strangled, “of course.”

Aelin pushed forward at once, pulling Nesta to her as if they’d been friends all their lives. It wasn’t the overly-tight embrace Nesta had feared, and she found herself immediately inundated by the fresh citrus scent of Aelin’s perfume.

When they pulled back, Nesta found Aelin smiling at her, no calculation or contempt on her face.

“I want to thank you again for what you did for Nehemiah,” she continued. “We were in a proper panic until you stepped in.”

“I was happy to help,” Nesta said, grateful for the warmth in Aelin’s tone, even if she wasn’t sure she deserved it. “I’m just glad it worked out.”

“It did. Thanks to you,” Aelin said, tone full of meaning. 

Nesta nodded and made to step away, terrified she might ruin the moment by saying the wrong thing. However, Aelin reached forward to grab her hand, giving a soft squeeze as she leaned forward, voice pitched low as she said, “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” Nesta admitted, pausing before adding, “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you for a long time.”

“Me too,” Aelin said with a smile. “We all have.”

Nesta could barely contain what those words did to her—how they soothed all the jagged self-loathing she’d harbored over the last several months. Aelin seemed to read the lingering pain on Nesta’s face, because her own smile dimmed slightly.

“She’ll come around,” Aelin said simply. “Just give her time.”

Nesta didn’t need to ask who Aelin was referring to, but she nodded, grateful beyond measure for Aelin’s kindness.

Not wanting to monopolize Aelin’s attention, she turned back to the rest of the group, which now included two more men she didn’t know. 

Though they’d yet to be introduced, it was clear from their piercing blue eyes who they were. 

The Ashryvvers, Aelin’s maternal cousins.

The blonde was the first to notice Nesta, and his answering smile was deceptively mild as he nodded to her in greeting before leaning over to his cousin and whispering—perhaps a bit louder than he’d intended, “Ella está buena.”

Despite her parents’ insistence, Nesta’s Spanish had never been nearly as good as her Portuguese. However, it was certainly good enough to understand when a man was checking her out.

Flustered, Nesta tried to keep her expression neutral. It wasn’t that she was offended; she just wasn’t sure how to proceed without embarrassing Aelin’s cousin and possibly offending Aelin herself in the process.

Fortunately for Nesta, it seemed that Aelin had also overheard what had been said, and she reacted with no hesitation.

Quick as an adder, she slapped the blonde soundly upside the head and hissed, “That’s Cash’s girlfriend, you ignorant doorknob!” before flipping into smooth, clipped Spanish and adding, “Y ella habla portugués; puede entenderte. Sorry,” she said, turning back to Nesta with an apologetic smile. “You’d honestly think these two were raised in a barn. These are my cousins, Aedion and Galen.”

“Why am I being scolded?” Galen, the darker-hair one, asked. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it,” Aelin sniffed at him. “So you’re just as bad.”

Galen rolled his eyes in defeat and turned to make himself a drink, but Aedion only grinned, seemingly unruffled by Aelin’s rebuke as he extended his hand to Nesta.

“Lovely to meet you,” he said. “Cash is a lucky man.”

“Knock it off,” Aelin said, pushing his hand aside as she steered Nesta away. “She’s probably gotten enough of that from Rhys already.”

“Me?” Rhys said, laughing. “What did I do?”

“Plenty, I’m sure,” Aelin said, blowing him a kiss. “Besides, I thought you saved the worst of your shameless flirting for me!”

“Don’t encourage him,” Rowan said.

“Don’t get possessive,” Aelin lobbed back, flashing him a tarty smile over her shoulder. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you.”

“God, I’ve missed you,” Rhys said, grinning appreciatively at her.

“Then move to California already,” Aelin said, pouring herself a glass of champagne before topping off Nesta’s glass as well. “Then you can annoy Ro to your heart’s delight.”

“It’s tempting,” Rhys admitted. “But I wouldn’t want to encroach on Az’s hunting grounds.”

Azriel, who Nesta expected to clap back the way he usually did when someone brought up his love life, simply raised his glass in answer.

“Be my guest. You and I have very different taste in women.”

It was a testament, Nesta decided, to how comfortable Aelin’s arrival had made her, that she actually debated actually asking Azriel what his type might be. However, after a moment of consideration she decided not to push the issue, if only for fear of upsetting the delicate but promising balance she’d struck within the group.

She thought of how it had felt watching Cash meshing with her own friends, and she hoped he would be similarly pleased when he saw how easily she’d seemed to find her way with his. Because they’d all gone out of their way to accept her, even after what she’d put Cash through. Being here with them, it became dangerously easy, in fact, to imagine what a future amongst these people might look like for her. 

Before tonight, Nesta had been apprehensive to plan too far ahead where she and Cash were concerned, afraid to get her hopes up while things with his friends remained so much in the air. Hard as it had been, Nesta had promised herself when they’d started dating that she would never let herself come between Cash and the people who were most important to him, even if it someday meant making the difficult decision of letting him go so he wouldn’t be forced to choose.

She supposed she’d never forgiven herself enough to actually imagine they might accept her the same way Cash had. Sitting amongst them now, listening to them talk and laugh as if they didn’t all know how selfish and broken she’d been, her heart felt full in a way even she didn’t have words for.

“Boo, we’re out of champagne!” Aelin said, pulling Nesta from her reverie as she shook the empty bottle upside down and pouted in Rhys’s direction. “Please tell me we don’t have to flirt with the horrible owner to get more.”

“No champagne?” a familiar voice called, sending Nesta’s heart soaring into her throat. “What kind of shit party is this?”

Nesta leapt up in time to see Cash emerging from behind the gauzy curtain, a huge smile on his face. A cheer went up at his appearance, but he only had eyes for Nesta, stringing an arm around her waist as she approached and pulling her close.

“Miss me?” He asked, brushing his nose against hers as he grinned.

“A little,” she said, stroking a hand down his cheek. 

Before she could ask how the dinner went, Rhys interrupted with a laughing groan.

“Guess I’m going to have to order the expensive stuff, now that Kahukore is here.”

“No need,” Cash said, pulling a bottle from behind his back. “I brought my own.”

Nesta recognized the crest-shaped label and laughed.

“You got it?”

Cash grinned.

“They offered me the job on the spot. I fly to Paris next week to sign the papers. Here Sadeghi, this shit is bougie enough to get even your spoiled ass excited. Dom P3 Plentinude Brut, a gift from the personal wine cellar of Dom’s COO.”

“This beauty spends 20 years aging on its lees, and you want to share it with these animals?” Rhys asked.

“Good point,” Cash said. “We better open before I change my mind.”

Divesting the bottle of its cage with practiced ease, Cash held his thumb to the cork to keep it from accidentally popping off before offering the bottle to Nesta.

“Will you do the honors?”

She gently pushed the bottle back towards him.

“You’re better at it than I am,” she said.

“True,” he said, grin widening as she bared her teeth at him. “But I wouldn’t have gotten this job if you hadn’t pushed me to apply, so this one’s all you.”

“Nes-ta! Nes-ta! Nes-ta!” Aelin chanted, the others joining in until Nesta finally accepted the bottle from Cash, applying pressure to the cork before it finally came loose with an expert kiss of sound.

They all cheered again, Cash pouring a measure into the fresh glasses Rhys had produced before raising his own, Nesta still tucked comfortably into his side.

“Oscar Wilde once wrote, ‘pleasure without champagne is purely artificial.’ Since I’m not one to argue with the greats, I’ll simply say, here’s to genuine pleasure, friends!”

Another cheer went up as they all clinked glasses and took a sip, Nesta nearly moaning as it hit her tongue. It was even better than the bottle of Armand de Brignac they’d opened after Nesta’s trial, every carefully-cultivated flavor dialed to 11 by the lengthy aging process.

“What do you think?” Cash said quietly, studying her reaction with delight.

“Perfection.”

“Just like you, then,” he shot back easily.

Instead of sniping back like she normally would have, she merely smiled, leaning up to kiss him.

“I’m so proud of you,” she said quietly.

“Thank you,” he said. “For making me go tonight. It would have been a mistake not to.”

“No thanks necessary,”  she replied firmly. “Since there was no way I was going to let you miss it.”

“Things have been going...well here, I take it?”

She took a minute to compose herself, glancing down into her glass before meeting his eye again.

“The only thing that would have made it better would have been if you’d been here.”

He studied her face, seeming to relax as he read the calm contentment on hers.

“I’ve told you a million times; to know you is to love you, Nesta Archeron. Anyone who refuses to see that is truly blind.”

Nesta's heart stuttered a bit at that, both at the compliment and the reminder that there was still work to do when it came to repairing all the damage that had been done. Still, that was a problem for another day. Tonight, they were celebrating. 

xx 

It was Nesta’s phone which woke her the following morning, the annoyingly-bright chime alerting her there was someone at their front door. She turned over to wake Cash, intent on making him fetch whatever package had been dropped off so she could continue sleeping.

She was fairly certain she was going to be hungover for the next month after the bender they’d embarked on the night before, and she didn’t plan to get out of bed until she had to leave for work on Monday. Maybe not even then.

Blindly reaching for him, she found his side of the bed cool, and when she’d gathered the strength to open her eyes, she swore to find a note instead of the mass of naked man she’d been expecting.

Gone to the gym with Ro to sweat out the demons. Take the Advil I left you. <;3 

She swore again at realizing he wasn’t there, and a third time for good measure when the doorbell chimed again.

“Just leave whatever it is and go!” She yelled, even knowing there wasn’t a chance in hell the delivery person could actually hear her.

When the door chimed a third time, Nesta groaned and hauled herself to her feet, slugging down the Advil and nearly falling down the stairs in her attempt to reach the front door. 

Dredging up whatever decorum she could muster, she smoothed her rumpled hair and fought down the urge to snap at the overeager UPS driver who’d thought it was appropriate to ring the doorbell three times on a Saturday morn—

Nesta felt herself go pale as she wrenched open the door to find that it wasn’t a delivery at all. It was Mor, looking fresh as a daisy and distressingly composed when compared to what Nesta was sure she must have looked like. 

A beat of horrifyingly awkward silence reigned before Nesta regained her wits enough to say, “I’m sorry, Cash isn’t home right now.”

“Actually,” Mor said, “I came to see you.”

The panic must have shown somewhat on Nesta’s face, because before she could manage a reply, Mor pressed on.

“I would have been here sooner, but apparently Rhys lent the jet to Aelin, so I had to fly commercial.”

When Nesta still didn’t reply, Mor shifted slightly, the first sign of discomfort she’d allowed to show.

“I know it’s early for a social call, but I thought—would you like to come to breakfast? I know a great place in Portrero Hill. My treat, of course.”

Nesta, for all her usual composure and aplomb, remained speechless. When she finally opened her mouth, the only thing that came out was “Why?”

“I was hoping we could...talk,” Mor said. When Nesta made no move to reply, Mor continued, “I wanted to apologize for yesterday, and for us to hopefully...start over.”

After another hideous beat of silence Mor seemed to relent, nodding as she stepped back, gaze falling to her feet.

“But I understand if now is not a good time. I’ll just let you get back to—“

“No,” Nesta said finally, making up her mind. If Cash could forgive her for the mistakes she’d made and allow her to move on from them, the least she owed him was to offer Mor the same chance. “I’d like that. I just need to—” she glanced down at herself. “I could be ready in twenty minutes, if that works.”

“Yes!” Mor said, eyes lighting up. “Take your time, I’ll come back in an hour.”

Mor was already heading for the stairs, and Nesta considered the courage it had taken to extend this olive branch before deciding to extend one of her own.

“Would you like to wait here instead? I can make coffee.”

Mor’s smile went from edged hopefulness to soft relief.

“I’d love that.”

@that-golden-lyre @aspidenchantress @annedub @so-chill-mochill @verypaleninja @bookofmaas @katexrenee@mightymorphingayagenda @tswaney17 @keshavomit @subhuman-queer @123moiaussi @b00kworm @sezkins79 @marnz @wesupremeginger @toallthefandomsivelovedbefore @rhysanoodle @actuallyacotartrash @empress-ofbloodshed-writing @superspiritfestival @donnarosemary @regolithheart @kingdomofbrokenhearts @mariamuses @verifiefangirl-mainblog @awesomethreedragons @awesomelena555 @kayak34

[sarsaparillia]

in vino veritas!

hiiii bb

in vino veritas is the immediate prequel to set yourself on fire! twilight gets very drunk, has a full meltdown about leaving his wife and daughter, and then decides to do it anyway because he is really just the dumbest man alive!! he also crawls into bed with yor and there are sad snuggles 😈

[apollo41writes]

Goodnight prompt 5/∞

Fandom: Star Wars Prequels Ship: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker AUs/Tropes: Office AU, In vino veritas Prompt: The first time Anakin goes out for an after work drink with his co-workers he gets drunk. The first time Anakin goes out for an after work drink with his co-workers, Obi-Wan gets drunk as well. It comes as a surprise to both when they wake up in the same bed the morning after. But they are both hungover and late for work. They'll have time to talk about it later, right?

Extra details: Just a good old cliché. Honestly I like this idea of Anakin being still somewhat of a boy wonder, graduating before he's 18 and immediately getting hire by a very important international company. He's basically so good that by the time he's old enough to drink, he's the go-to IT person of the company. Meanwhile, Obi-Wan has been working with the sales department for years. Of course he's immediately attracted by Anakin! He's young, smart, beautiful and charismatic! What is there not to like? He also realizes how inappropriate it would be because of the age difference, so he tries as much as he can to not lean into this attraction. It's kind of hard when Anakin seems to always pop up when Obi-Wan is taking a coffee break. But he manages. At least until Anakin is old enough to drink and then they proceed to get drunk together. I actually don't think they had sex that night. There was probably some heavy petting and multiple declarations of love from both of them. But they are so drunk that they just end up cuddling. t's very open at this point if they just proceed to have sex on Obi-Wan's desk at the first chance they get, or if they spend months pining over each other with they co-workers having a betting pool behind their backs.

[blitheringmcgonagall]

Can I please have 8,38 and 40 on the fic ask if you have time? ✨✨✨

Thank you so much I really loved these questions so much! Er, I may have gotten a bit carried away with this!! 😂😂😂

8. Share a snippet from one of your favourite dialogue scenes and explain why you’re proud of it?

This is from the prequel to We Can Be Heroes which is basically a fic about the prank called Boys Don’t Cry and my favourite thing in it is probably the Prongsfoot BroTP (in this case quite Angsty). I like it because I just feel this captures the fake nonchalance and lack of remorse that Sirius shows in canon when he is reminded of the prank, whereas in fact he’s just putting on an act, because boys don’t cry as @mrs-stubby-boardman ‘s excellent post on Sirius and traditional masculinity and mental health reminds us. And that because of his fractured family relationships, his experience of rejection, Sirius is trying to push James away, to reject him first before James inevitably ends their friendship (Prongs rolling his eyes at this, yes he’s fucking pissed at Sirius but this isn’t the end!)

He wanted to believe that Sirius, his brother, had been Imperiused, that he’d been forced to-

“You know what they say, Prongs, we revert to type under pressure,” Sirius said, a slightly condescending lilt to his voice, pureblood accent accentuated. “I wanted to hurt Snivellus. I came up with a plan. It worked.”

“It worked?” James’ throat felt so tight he couldn’t breathe properly, roughly shaking Sirius.

“It worked,” Sirius said, voice smooth and clipped.

He let go of Sirius’ collar in disgust, hands shaking with rage.

“You’re drunk, Sirius, drunk,” he said, swallowing hard. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Au contraire. If anything, in vino veritas,” Sirius replied, with a strange, almost manic laugh, as he stepped closer to James, head high, straight-backed. “Moony was… collateral damage.”

Sirius poked him hard with his index finger, making him stagger backwards.

“You heard me, collateral damage.”

Something inside him snapped.

“Fuck you!”

His fist collided with Sirius ’cheekbone, sending him sprawling backwards. He tried to control his breathing, looking down at Sirius who lay spreadeagled where he had landed. Except this time, as they locked eyes, for a split second he read regret, shame, self-loathing, fear, wretchedness.

“Is that all you’ve got?” the mask was back on, taunting.

“Fuck you, Sirius Black! If you think I’m going to… I’m not bloody Orion, I’m not going to fucking beat you up, you can fuck right off! You know what? I don’t care what reason you had, there’s no excuse for what you did to Remus! He didn’t deserve it! I don’t know what the fuck is going to happen now… you’ve ruined everything. I just… I should have seen this coming, I should have done…”

There was a pause. Sirius licked his lips.

“You need to get it into your pitiful little skull that I’m a bad person, Prongs. Once you accept that, then this whole thing makes sense. Oh I know you’re going to say your usual pathetic, feel-good line about how we’ve all got both light and dark inside us,” he said with a distasteful air, making air quotes, and looking somewhere in the mid distance. "That what matters is the part we choose to act on. That's who we really are… bla bla bla. Face it, this is who I am."

38.Talk about a review that made your day.

Well I got this today on We Can Be Heroes and it made my week!!!

Honestly so thrilled!!!!!

40.Write an alternative ending to (insert fic title)

Ooooh but all my favourite fics have the best endings???? That’s a hard one! All my favourite Jily and Wolfstar fics from my favourite authors have happy endings! And the only alternative ending I’ve actually written is the canon ending to We Can Be Heroes (stupid Jily dying, stupid Sirius finding them and ending up in Azkaban and stupid Remus attending the funerals alone) which is frankly stupid and crap, because canon is crap! And I literally told people not to read it because it’s too sad!??

Thank you so much!!! 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

[ao3feed-connor]

Goodnight prompts

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/Ucso3Cn

by apollo41

A series of multifandom prompts cross-posted on tumblr @apollo41writes. 1) Ezra Bridger/Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker - Modern AU, Pregnancy 2) Dean Winchester/Castiel - Historical setting, Master/slave relationship (non-sexual) 3) Rey/Ben Solo - Lovecraftian AU, Royalty betrothed at birth 4) RK900/Gavin Reed, RK900&Connor - Reverse AU (kinda), secret identity (but it's complicated) 5) Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker - Office AU, In vino veritas

Words: 415, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels, The Mandalorian (TV), Supernatural (TV 2005), Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: Multi

Characters: Ezra Bridger, Din Djarin, Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa, Sabine Wren, Grogu | Baby Yoda, Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Sam Winchester, Rey (Star Wars), Upgraded Connor | RK900, Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Gavin Reed, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker

Relationships: Ezra Bridger/Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed, Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker

Additional Tags: prompt collection, not-fic, multifandom - Freeform, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Mpreg, Pregnancy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Historical Fantasy, Master/Slave, Lovecraftian, Lovecraftian Romance, Alternate Universe - Royalty, betrothed at birth, reverse, Secret Identity, Brotherly Affection, Alternate Universe - Office, In Vino Veritas

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/Ucso3Cn

[xantissa]

No Wolves Allowed Masterpost

Hi there! @quarra and I wrote a lot of fics in this series and there are still many that are waiting to be posted. In honor of that I decided to make a masterpost for this series:

The Fall  13,3k

Dracula is not Gabriel Belmont anymore. He is not human, the darkness rooted too deep in his soul. His incorruptible son fascinates him, Alucard's choices are strange and frustrating, yet mesmerising.

A very early prequel to No Wolves Allowed - this story is much darker and angstier than the rest of the series. It's not necessary to read this to enjoy the following stories.

No Wolves Allowed - 88k

Geralt of Rivia was a witcher, a famous monster hunter. He was trained from infancy to be the perfect fighter, and magically modified for increased physical abilities. He and his daughter, Ciri, were teleporting away from a battle, weary but pleased with their victory, when something went wrong. Ciri’s portal didn’t take them back to their home.

It took them to a massive, sinister castle, far, far away from anything they’d ever seen, and filled to the brim with demonic energy. With Ciri unconscious and Geralt himself wounded, he feared the worst.

But the castle’s dangerous and powerful owners were more intriguing than he expected, and far too beautiful to resist.

Not Such a Lone Wolf After All - 7,6k

Geralt has a shitty week. Dracula unexpectedly visiting makes things a little better.

Aka: Fluffy, smutty hurt comfort with a liberal sprinkling of claws.

Wolf Stories - 15,3k

The harpy contract was big enough for two witchers, so Eskel asked Geralt to come and help exterminate the feathered menaces. He did not expect his friend to look so different, nor did he expect the monstrous wolf following him like a puppy. When things go to hell, it’s up to Eskel and the strange wolf to find Geralt before it’s too late.

Hard Time Waking Up - 10,9k

Remember that time when Geralt was out hunting harpies with Eskel? Things went south and he got caught in a landslide, froze half to death in a icy mountain river, and then taken away to Dracula’s castle by demon guards?

This is what happened at the castle. (companion to Wolf Stories)

Family Intervention - 16,8k

The time has come for Geralt to introduce his lovers to his friends. It goes well. Nobody dies. 

Therapy Witcher - 8k

Dracula and Alucard decide to some time in Kaer Morhen getting to know Geralt’s family. Late one night Eskel stumbles across a very stoned Alucard warming himself by the kitchen fire. A smart man would have just walked away...

In Vino Veritas - 8k

After a successful hunt, Geralt finds himself still under the effects of a large number of ability enhancing potions. In times past he would have slept it off, found a brothel, or just found another fight. But this time, Geralt has a better idea.

He’s going to go pay Alucard a visit.

Cave of Nightmares - 27,2k

It was supposed to be a simple errand. Vesemir needed more herbs to supply the keep, so he kicked Eskel out of bed at the crack of dawn to get them.

Eskel expected to spend all day sweating his ass off finding rare flowers. He didn’t expect to find an old abandoned cave with the symbol of the Wolf on it.

He didn’t expect the disturbing truths that lay inside.

Learning Curve - 8k

The aftermath of a hunt isn’t always pretty. Geralt is used to taking care of any damage he received by himself, usually at a campfire in the middle of the woods. This time he decides he can do it somewhere warmer and more comfortable and uses the Wolf portal to go to Dracula’s castle. It doesn’t go quite the way he expects. 

Fun Is A Matter Of Perspective - 87,5k

Dracula is the King of Hell. One of Geralt’s enemies doesn't realize this, and tries to have him kidnapped. Dracula thinks this is fucking hilarious, and plays along. Now his lovers must 'rescue' him. Eskel gets to be a witness to this little bodice ripper scenario...whether he wants to or not. 

A Taste Of Truth - 5,5k

Over the past several months, Alucard had watched his father interact with Geralt. He’d listened to what was said and pieced together information about their family’s past. But Alucard found himself with more questions than answers. Information he had always been told was fact now seemed more and more like a fabrication at best, propaganda to coerce him onto a certain path at worst.

So when Alucard comes across Dracula in a quiet moment, a thousand words burn on his tongue. Questions about his mother, about the castle, and all the things that led them to this moment. More important than that were the things he wanted to say about himself and about them together.

Too bad he can’t manage to get the words to come out right.

No Love - 12,5k

Two lovers and no sex, what has the world come to? Good thing Dracula has a back up witcher. 

Where Sleeping Wolves Lie - 450k (when completed)

Someone sent a small army to kill Geralt. What’s worse is that they very nearly succeed in their task. In a desperate move to save Geralt’s life, Alucard whisks him away to another world where Alucard has both power and connections in hopes that modern medicine can heal where the vampire’s magic cannot.

While Alucard and his doctors fight for Geralt’s life, Dracula unleashes his ire upon Geralt’s world. Ciri, Eskel, and the rest of the Wolf witcher family must find a way to contain the damage and discover who’s responsible for the assassination attempt on Geralt, before Dracula burns down the world in his rage.

--------------------

And now, the next titles are still just work in progress titles, not the final product but I wanted to share just how much more is coming up! Assume all the titles and summaries are temporary:

Bath Time - 12,9k

         Eskel might have or might have not been poaching in Geralt’s garden in     Dracula’s castle when he stumbled on the owner of said castle.

Here Kitty Kitty - 35,2k

           Eskel was having a bad day. Bad week. Maybe more than that.

Sunny Eskel - 8,1k

         Dracula having fun with a warm and lazy Eskel

Geralt’s Nightmare - 7,9k

         Geralt has a nightmare, his lovers take care of him

Eskels handjob - 26,6k (I know pffft)

         Drac and Eskel inching along the romance path

The Hunt For The Red Flower - 62,5k

         One of my definite favorities. Eskel, Geralt and an ADVENTURE

Stoned Geralt - 18,4k

         companion to the story above

Eskel in Skellige - 71k

        Adventure again! Eskel witchering in Skellige after Dracula put his mark on him and what it entails.

Dracula in Castlevania - 17k

        Drac visits Alucard, Matt has a hernia (again)

Moar Kitty! - 181,3k

        Eskel centered, back in Castlevania angst and porn galore.

Total estimated series length (might change after edits is roughly 1,2 million words)

And believe it or not, we have more planned yet...

[aces-to-apples]

K, S and V for the fanfic ask game!

K: What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?

Wow, um, probably Reconditioned Kote? That one's definitely got me screamed at a bunch, which is precisely what I was after.

S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?

Oh god, I am always always always a slut for: sex-pollen/aphrodisiacs, time-travel, role-swap, royalty, amnesia/gone feral, in vino veritas, and soulmates/soul-bonds.

V: If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

Gahhhhh, I don't often get hit with that feel much? Um... I do have an idea where I want to play with in @glimmerglanger's "A Slow Fall Towards Grace" 'verse? But that's more a slight divergence (and then course correction back to SLO canon) than a sequel... Ooh! Technically, "Family Before Honor" (yes, i know it's been years, please don't look at me) was technically meant to be a sort of prequel to @norcumii's "Dead Men Tell No Tales", which was unfortunately lost in the Great Winter Purge of 2018 :/

[amillionmillionvoices]

T U V X Y

T: Any fandom tropes you can’t stand?

Anything that’s dubcon, really. Aliens Made Them Do It / Magical Healing Penis / In Vino Veritas / Sex Pollen, etc. Just... plz be consensual about ur sexy times? It’s not hard?

U: Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

@mygalfriday is the fic love of my life (and i love her IRL too) because her fics are always so so good. She has such an amazing grasp of characterization and translates that into EPIC aus!!! Which is my fav thing!!! She also writes a ton of River/12 which is my Most Jam, and her writing itself is always lyrical and brilliant and often makes me get all feeling in my heart place. I love Pam. 

@goddessdel‘s fics are awesome! They’re often steamy in a delightful way and I love her prose immensely, and the insights into the characters are always spot on. She does a lot of like episode inserts or “insert River/Doctor into this canon moment” fics that I super adore!! 

@bonnissance give me all that sweet sweet loving! I adore her Hecate/Pippa fics esp and the characters are always so good and the prose is beautiful and sparing in a way that always hits really good. Like each line is really thoughtful and important and it’s a DELIGHT. 

V: If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

So it’s not really prequel, but in @mygalfriday‘s we’ll take it slow and grow as we go, there’s a part where River mentions she miscarried during TIA and I... would probably write that fic ngl. 

X: A character you enjoy making suffer.

River Song

Y: A character you want to protect.

RIVER SONG

(the duality of my gay ass)

[ ask me fic questions! ]

[ivuamxo]

in vino veritas

pairing: zuko/katara rated: t summary: the fire lord and the last southern waterbender have a whiskey-laced conversation, and only the spirits remember. (the prequel to carpe diem) a/n: inspired by patawad by moira dela torre and let us go by crush. 

They’re a little drunk. A night of fire whiskey, and a few attempts to slow dance together in the moonlight have led them here, with her standing at the edge of the ocean and him on one knee.

There’s no necklace, ring, or any other item that holds promises between them. All they have is the look that they share.

“I’m sorry.” He says it with sincerity, his voice shaking. It’s two words that shake up her world, like she’s coming to a home that she didn’t know she had.

read here on AO3

[pitviperofdoom]

whats in vino veritas about?

“In Vino Veritas” is the working title of a fic that was going to be sort of a prequel to “An Arrow to a Bundle”, basically a college AU Tododeku fic showing how they first met. Short version: Izuku gets extra friendly when he’s drunk and starts paying people very genuine and sweet compliments that he’d normally be too bashful to say sober. He keeps running into Shouto at bars and college parties.

“Howmuch did you show your professor when you asked her?” Uraraka asked.

“Mytopicproposal.And introduction. And conclusion. And one body paragraph.”

“Andshe said it was fine?”

“It’stwenty pages! What if she reads the rest and changes her mind?”

“Deku,”she said patiently. “The whole point of an introduction and aconclusion is to explain what the rest of the paper is about. Isincerely doubt you have anything to worry about.”

“Iknow! I really do, it’s just… it was that, and then I have twoexams to take next week, and I’m just… stressing out.”

“Mm-hm.Thought so.” Uraraka nodded sagely. “I have a cure for that.”

“Idon’t think a hug is going to fix this,” Izuku sighed.

“Oh,I know. But me, Tsuyu, and Kirishima are going out for drinkstonight, and you should come with us. Unwind, you know?” She pattedhim on the shoulder, none too gently. “You need it.”

“Idon’t know if drowning my sorrows is really the way to go here.”

“Whosaid anything about drowning?” Uraraka scoffed. “Or sorrow? We’regonna hang out and have fun. And hopefully we’ll tire each otherout so much that someof uscanget a good night’s sleep finally.”

“Well…”Izuku finished drying his eyes. This was a bad time to be consideringthis; after all that crying, he was thirsty.“I… guess there’s no harm in taking a break?”

“Excellent!”She jostled him excitedly. “Hey, why don’t you invite yourroomie?”

Izukugave her a skeptical look. “Tokoyami doesn’t drink.”

“Iknow!” Urarakasaid cheerily. “But Tsuyu and I are out to have fun, and I want youto get so schnookered you forget what you were worried about, so…weneed atleast onedesignatedsober person to help us corral Drunk Kirishima.”

[featherymalignancy]

PART TWO — The Eyes of Texas: A Rowaelin Origin Story 🏐 🍺 ♥️ 

  Long before Cash and Nesta, there was Rowan and Aelin.

Rowan Whitethorn—a Navel academy graduate and recently discharged second lieutenant from the United States Navy—takes a break from studying of the police academy exam in Los Angeles to fly back to his native Hawaii and compete in a twos volleyball tournament with his ex, one of the best sand players on the amateur circuit.

Beyond Remy’s devious machinations to win Rowan back, the biggest impediment to victory is the so-called Ashryver twins, a pair of cousins from Miami with a reputation of their own. Rowan can’t help but admire the gorgeous and sharp-tongued Aelin Galathynius, who’s more than ready to give Remy a run for her money—both on the court and in the race for Rowan’s affection.

This takes place in the same AU-verse as my Nessian story In Vino Veritas, about four years before. 

This a two-shot, you can find  PART I here.

The Eyes of Texas, PART TWO

By midnight, Rowan knew he was in deep shit.

They’d migrated to another bar by that time, Aelin practically in his lap as they traded stories about college and their friends. Rowan found himself caught between despair and delight as he listened to Aelin speak, unsure if he should be reveling in the attention from a woman of her caliber, or fretting that it couldn’t last.

It wasn’t just that Aelin was beautiful, though he was admittedly so mesmerized by those blue eyes and that dazzling smile that he had to actively avoid staring.

She was funny, too.

And not “when a sexy woman makes a joke you feel oddly compelled to laugh” type of funny, either.

She was fucking hilarious.

She’d had him in stitches earlier with a story about getting the business-end of her grandmother’s chancla after she’d gone to Easter mass with blue teeth from her candy basket, and he’d hardly stopped laughing since.

Rowan had always been a somewhat serious person—even more so after Lyria’s death—but Aelin made him feel...younger. Lighter. And he might have felt guilty for that, except he’d had the oddest sensation throughout the evening that Lyria was there, laughing alongside him.

And—as if gorgeous and hysterical weren’t enough—Aelin was also incredibly bright. Despite the rigors of her volleyball schedule, she was a neuroscience and psychology double major, with plans to attend medical school and become a psychiatrist when she graduated.

It was an answer that Rowan hadn’t expected when he’d asked what she was studying, but somehow it suited her. The ambition, the focus—it explained in part why she was such an incredible athlete. Rowan knew better than anyone that it took more that height and muscles to be a success in the sport, and even among the juggernauts who’d completed in the tournament, Aelin had been in a class of her own.

She’d grown oddly bashful when he’d pressed her about her volleyball career, at which point she admitted she’d held off med school applications to accept a place on the AVP tour.

“They’ve offered you a spot?” Rowan’d asked.

Aelin’s cheeks had gone slightly pink.

“They called after the tournament,” she’d said. “A scout was there to watch me play.”

“Aelin, that’s incredible.”

At this Aelin’s smile had relaxed into something sensuous that had made Rowan’s stomach tighten.

“Couldn’t have done it without, guapo. ”

Now as Ro sat twirling the tail of Aelin’s braid around a tattooed finger, he tried to remind himself that he needed to shut all these bright and shiny feelings down. Aelin had been a danger to the comfortable numbness Rowan had been living in since the moment she stepped onto the sand of that volleyball court. Now, having heard her laugh and flirt and speak Spanish, she’d become lethal.

He told himself that if he was smart, he’d kiss her cheek right now and tell her goodnight. It would probably take him several days to extract her from pleasant place she’d settled under his skin, but he could stop the bleeding now. If he was smart, he most definitely would not sleep with her.

But apparently he wasn’t smart, because when she’d slyly tugged him to his feet and coaxed him into one of the private closets marked “For Staff Only”, he didn’t stop her.

He also didn’t stop her when she kissed him, tongue sliding effortlessly into his mouth and she hands tracked under his shirt.

It was a bad idea to want Aelin Ashryvver-Galathynius the way Ro did, but he found as her hands continued their exploration that he didn’t care. Even if he could only have her for one night, he would make it enough.

“Your body is insane,” Aelin breathed, tracing the ridges of his abs in a way that made him shudder.

He couldn’t help the self-satisfied smirk which tugged at his mouth as he kissed her again.

“You haven’t seen anything yet.”

At this Aelin paused to laugh, eyes sparkling with wicked delight.

“Was that a big dick comment?” She said. “I knew you had it in you, Whitethorn.”

Rowan debated going for the obvious joke about having ‘it’ in her soon before quickly deciding against it. He was tipsy; it didn’t mean he had to be a jackass, too.

“Let’s go, you little troublemaker,” Ro said, reaching for the door which led from the closet to the secluded hallway.

Aelin’s answering grin was staggering in its seductive force. She casually leaned against the door, blocking his exit as she pulled him towards her by the beltloops.

“Why, are you afraid of getting caught?”

He grabbed the hand that was attempting to slip into his pants, pinning it over her head and bowing into her so she could feel how hard he already was.

“No. But the kind of sex I want, you can’t give me here.”

This seemed to stun her into aroused silence, and he reveled in the victory of rendering Aelin Galathynius speechless. However, she recovered quickly, leaning in to nip his lip.

“Fair warning: I’m not easily impressed.”

Her wrists still caught in his grip, he bent to whisper in her ear, grinding a little against her as he did so.

“So you say, but I’m going to guess you’ve only ever been with boys, Aelin. You may not realize it, but I don’t think you have any idea how good sex can actually be.”

Her legs went slightly weak at that, and he slid his knee between her thighs to keep her upright.

“And you’re going to show me?” She asked.

All the things he wanted to do to her flashed in his mind, and Rowan had to fend off a groan as he hardened further. Much more of this and they would end up doing it in this closet.

“I am,” he replied simply.

Aelin’s answering laugh was husky.

“How are you the same guy who didn’t have the cojones to ask for my number this afternoon?”

He recognized the gesture for what it was: an attempt to gain back the upper hand in their continued tug-of-war for dominance.

Turned on by her bravura, he let her, adding with a shrug, “I guess I’m more of a ‘lady in the streets’ type.”

Still, unwilling to cede to her completely he shifted his thigh where it was still nestled between her legs. She moaned a little, moving against him almost involuntarily to get the friction she needed.

Despite the desire for privacy enough to make Aelin scream herself hoarse, Ro found the idea of her rubbing one out on him too hot to resist. Rotating his knee, he pushed up until she was practically riding his thigh.

Aelin’s nails dug into his forearm as the seam of her shorts hit the exact right spot. He increased the pressure, and she moaned again, the sound growing more fractured as he snapped open one her overall straps and squeezed her firm breast over the lace. God, her tits were perfect.

“Stop or I’m going to come,” she said, teeth gritted.

Rowan didn’t bother to fend off a self-satisfied smile.

“You’re this easy to set off, Galathynius?” He laughed softly. “God, the things I’m gonna fucking to do to you.”

“I thought you said we weren’t going to bang here.”

“We aren’t,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t have an orgasm.”

“You seriously want my first one with you to be while I’m fully clothed?”

He glanced up to meet her overcome blue eyes.

“I just want to show you how many different ways I have to make you scream, Aelin.”

Taking a fistful of the denim jumper, he tugged up roughly until the fabric was splitting her. Even though all her clothes he could see what a gorgeous little pussy she had. The realization he’d soon be inside of her made Ro’s cock ache.

“Fuck,” Aelin said, hips canting forward as he used the back-and-forth friction to drag her closer to release. “This is not how I imagined things going when I brought you in here.”

Rowan kissed her neck.

“Better or worse?”

“Better,” she said. “So much better. Mierda .”

Her body tightened then relaxed slightly against him, and were he inside of her, he knew she’d be clenching around him right now.

“You have a gorgeous come face,” he told her honestly.

“I bet you do, too.”

He couldn’t fight a grin.

“Would you like to find out?”

“Yes please. ”

He pressed forward to kiss her again, their tongues tangling as he breathed, “let’s get out of here.”

Needing no further prompting, Aelin reached behind her to twist open the door before slipping out, Rowan behind her.

Taking his hand, she tugged him towards the exit, her phone already out with a map pulled up.

“Where are we headed?” He asked. “I might be able to help.”

Aelin’s answering smile was cryptic.

“It’s not far. The app is saying a 17-minute walk. Hang on.”

With this she dialed  a number before bringing the phone to her ear. Whoever she was calling—one of her cousins, Ro suspected—picked up on the second ring, and she began giving orders in rapid Spanish. After a minute she hung up, flashing Ro a simpering smile as she batted her lashes.

“Shall we?”

Rowan couldn’t fight a laugh.

“Did you just kick your cousins out of the room?”

“Suite,” she said with a growing smirk. “But who’s counting?”

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said. “We could have made it work.”

Her gaze heated, burning hot enough that Ro felt his cock stirring again. He watched as her fingers nimbly went to one of the long braids hanging over her shoulder, deftly undoing the plait.

“We don’t need an audience for all the filthy things I want you to do to me.”

He groaned.

“You’re killing me.”

She smiled, working the other braid free and giving her curtain of blonde hair a shake. Christ, he wanted to run his hands though it, then bunch in it his hands while he fucked that pretty little mouth.

She smirked as if she knew what he was thinking, even biting her lip a little in suggestion.

“Something wrong?” She said.

He only laughed.

“Completely the opposite.”

She smiled, tugging him down the street for ten blocks or so before making a left and heading towards a glittering glass building.

The Ritz Carlton.

Rowan let out a low whistle as they entered the marble lobby.

“You keeping secrets, Galathynius?”

She bit her lip.

“My dad is...not poor.”

“Define ‘not poor’.”

“He owns twenty-three luxury hotels in Miami?”

Rowan’s throat felt a bit scratchy.

“You’re a millionaire.”

Her grin was sheepish and slightly guilty.

“Kinda?”

He must have looked confused.

“I mean, yeah, with a b.”

Holy shit, her family were billionaires.

She studied him for a moment when he stopped walking, trying to take it all in. He wasn’t usually one to be embarrassed about money or his upbringing, but she was stupid rich. He suddenly felt out of his depth.

“This is why I didn’t tell you,” she said quietly. “It makes people see me differently.”

At this he glanced up, reading the sadness and loneliness in her eyes.

“It doesn’t change anything,” he found himself saying.

Dating a girl that rich, especially as a cop in Vice Squad—that could be complicated. But that’s not what this was; after tonight, Ro would likely never see her again. Besides, she’d made an effort not to make it a big deal, and hadn’t thrown money around to impress him even when she easily could have. If she could set it aside for the evening, so could he.

Also, he really wanted to fuck her. She was a girl begging for pleasure, and he wanted to be able to show her things she hadn’t experienced even in her wildest fantasies.

Aelin seemed to read the acceptance in his eyes because she tugged him towards the elevator, punching 36 before pushing him against the wall to kiss him.  Sliding his hands down her thighs, he hoisted her easily into his arm, crushing her against him.

When the door opened he didn’t bother putting her down, simply breathed against her mouth, “where?”

She gestured to the left and he headed towards the single door at the end of the hall. Producing a key from her back pocket, she slid to her feet before unlocking the door and ushering him inside.

Ro told himself not to gawk as they stepped farther into the palatial space, but it was impossible.

The lavishly-appointed suite was furnished with a living room, full kitchen, bedroom, and formal dining area, floor-to-ceiling window along the far wall looking out onto the Pacific Ocean.

There was a bottle of expensive Cuban rum and several glasses sitting on the marble island, half-smoked Monte Cristo cigars resting in a nearby tray. The Ashryvvers, it seemed, were no strangers to the finer things in life.

“Do you want a drink?” Aelin asked, trailing a hand down his back and observing him as he took in their surroundings.

He turned to her to say yes, but when he caught sight of the heat in her gaze he changed him mind.

“Later,” he said, walking her backwards into the wall closest to the bedroom.

“Thank god,” she said as he threaded a hand through hers to pull her arm above her head. “I don’t think I could bear to wait.”

Rowan chuckled, teeth grazing her ear as he said, “Does that mean you’re going to be a good girl and do as I say?”

Her blue eyes snapped to him, blazing with defiance.

“What makes you think I’m that type of girl?”

“In your everyday life, you like to be in control?”

“Yes.”

Rowan nodded.

“That’s why.”

“I don’t follow.”

“You’re used to responsibility and keeping all the plates spinning, but I bet deep down, you fantasize about being able to let go; you just don’t know how.”

She scoffed, through the sound turned to a breathy exhale as he kissed her neck.

“And what makes you think that I’ll be able to let go with you, a total stranger?”

He pulled back, kissing her softly on the lips.

“Because I am going to make you feel so good and so safe, you won’t have a choice. Do you trust me, Aelin?”

“I have no real reason to,” she hedged. “We just met.”

“But...” he said onto the sensitive skin of her throat.

She paused, muscles in her neck gorgeously taut as he tugged her earlobe with his teeth.

“Díos ayúdame,” she choked out. “Yes, I do.”

“Good girl,” he praised. “Let’s get you naked.”

Throwing the overall strap he’d previously unbuckled over her shoulder, he unsnapped the other. He knelt as he coaxed the whole garment down her hips, pausing to lave her tattoo.  He resisted the urge to venture between her legs, enjoying the way she bucked her hips towards the heat of his mouth as it pressed against her low belly.

“Patience,” he said, nipping the sensitive skin.

She settled slightly at that, and Ro ran his hands up her torso with with deliberate slowness, palms skating effortlessly under her lacy bralette and tugging it off in a single, fluid gesture.

He glanced down at her and groaned.

“Fucking Christ.”

Her breasts were flawlessly round and dark enough to suggest she spend a decent amount of time tanning topless, her tight nipples framed by matching diamond studs. He ran a finger over the jewelry, laughing at her shudder of pleasure.

“Are you crazy, Galathynius? You’re a D1 athlete!”

She chuckled.

“I tape them up to play. Why, you don’t like?”

He glanced up to meet her gaze.

“I didn’t say that.”

The truth was they suited her: elegant femininity edged in wildness.

“You approve then.”

He reached down to tease her, brushing a knuckle against her left nipple until it pebbled.

“They’re gorgeous.”

Aelin preened a bit at that.

“Tits this nice deserved a little something extra,” she said with a smirk.

Rowan was inclined to agree.

“These real diamonds, princess?”

“They were a gift from Aedion.”

At this Rowan stiffened, unable to smother the discomfort the idea inspired. Aelin only laughed, catching his face in her hands and kissing him lightly on the lips.

“I’m playing with you, tonto. Obviously he and Galen don’t know about these or they’d hit the roof. Besides,” she said, pert nose wrinkling slightly. “We don’t share things like that with each other. We’re close but...not that close.”

Rowan couldn’t hold back a relieved laugh, which only made Aelin’s grin widen.

“You should have seen the look on your face, though.”

“You’re trouble,” he told her.

“You love it,” she shot back, leaning in so her breasts brushed his chest.

Yeah he fucking did.

Crushing her into another kiss, her massaged her breasts, palms scraping her nipples. When they’d grown hard from his machinations he bent to taste them, loving the feel of her fingers as they wound into his hair and tugged.

“Take off your clothes already,” she said, breathless. “I want to know if your dick is as big as it feels.”

He grabbed her wrist and guided it between his legs.

“See for yourself.”

Deft as a snake, she had a hand down the front of boxer briefs, stroking him twice with a firm grip.

He planted a hand on the wall beside her head, breathing through his nose as he bowed into her wicked touch.

“What are you thinking about?” She asked as she unbuckled his belt and pushed his chinos off his carved waist until they hung low on his hips.

“You.”

“What about me?”

He bent to kiss her deeply again. God, he wasn’t sure he’d ever been this turned on.

“About what you’d look like on your knees with my cock in your mouth.”

She gave a sensuous chuckle.

“Dream on, querido. ”

He only grinned in response.

“No one likes a liar, Galathynius.”

“What reason would I have to ever suck you off?”

“The same reason you’d let me tie you up: you want to know what it’s like to let someone else be in control.”

“I never said I wanted to be tied up,” she said, voice turning to a groan as he pushed her underwear aside to dip two fingers inside of her.

“You didn’t have to,” he said, holding up his fingers so they glistened in the moonlight pouring in from the open balcony doors. “You’re soaked.”

She didn’t respond, merely leaned forward to licked the offending digits clean in a way that told him that not only did she want to suck his dick, she was going to be excellent at it.

He hardened at the thought, even as he forced a calming breath. If this was his only chance with her, he intended to savor every second.

He wanted tears— actual tears—of pleasure from her. He wanted to hear her beg. And not just some breathy “ please, more ” bullshit, either. He wanted to her to plead—for him, for release, for anything and everything he was willing to give her.

He wanted all of it and more, but to have it, he needed to be patient with her. It meant going slow, and sending her off the edge several times before he ever slipped inside of her.

Gently collaring her throat, he pressed a soft kiss to her lips before easing her off the wall and into the waiting bedroom.

“You are so beautiful,” he told her.

She smirked, eyes flashing.

“Bet you say that to all the girls you fuck.”

“I’ve never fucked a woman as beautiful as you.”

It was out before he could stop it, and he had to fend off the the twinge of guilt it produced. Still, he couldn’t regret saying it, because it was true; Aelin was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met.

Aelin, seeming abashed by this declaration, responding by coaxing Rowan’s buttoned shirt open and over his shoulders. Chest to bare chest, her next kiss was soft and drugging.

“You’re...not ugly, either,” she said at last.

“Not ugly?” He repeated with a laugh.

“You’re...” she trailed off as he kissed her neck.

“I’m...?”

“Gorgeous,” she said finally. “But I think you already knew that.”

“Maybe, but it hits different from you.”

Aelin seemed pleased by that, and she rewarded him by dipping her hand into his unbuckled pants again and fisting him.

“I was also right; you’re enormous.”

Grabbing her wrist, he pinned it to the wall and put his hand between her legs instead.

“And I bet you’re tight,” he said, drawing lazy circles with his thumb that had her back arching.

“Are we going to fit?” She teased, but he could hear the concern underneath that she couldn’t quite hide.

The idea that some douchebag had pushed into her before she was totally ready—it made Rowan’s skin prickle in irritation.

He caught her jaw.

“After I’m done playing with you, Aelin, you’re going to be so wet that you’ll feel like my cock was made to fit inside you.”

She moaned.

“If you’re half as good as sex as you are dirty talk, I think this might be the best night of my life.”

Rowan was counting on it. What he hadn’t counted on was the fact it was shaping up to be one of the best nights of his as well. And not just because of the sex, though Rowan couldn’t deal with that right now.

“I bet you taste good too,” he said, grinding against her and living for her answering moan. “Don’t you?”

“I’ve never had any complaints,” she said, and he tried to ignore the twinge of jealousy at the thought of another guy’s mouth on her.

Her pussy was his, at least for tonight. He intended to make sure she never forgot how it felt to have him between her thighs.

Kneeling at her feet, he peeled her thong down her lean legs. He let his eyes drag up slowly, taking his time admiring the muscles in her quads before his gaze settled between her legs.

She was already wet, her thighs glistening with arousal. He imagined what they would look like dripping with his come instead. The idea had masculine satisfaction thrumming through him, even knowing it was a fantasy he couldn’t indulge. He wouldn’t put her in a vulnerable position by not wearing a condom.  Pressing a mockingly chaste kiss on her low belly, he rose to his feet.

“Get on the bed,” he said, guiding her hips towards the waiting mattress.

“Get naked first,” she countered, tracing the band of his Adonis belt before tugging him towards her by the waistband of his Calvin Klein boxer briefs.

He didn’t stop her as she skated her hands down the back to squeeze his ass before pushing them off his hips.

His dick was already rock hard, and it pressed between them. She leaned up to kiss him again before sinking down to sit on the bed. The movement bought her eye-level with his erection, and gripping him in a fist, she put her mouth on him.

He swore as she laved his length, cock twitching as she traced a ridge of vein with her  tongue. Threading a gentle hand into her hair, he took a step back, coaxing her off the bed and onto her knees. When she looked up at him, blue eyes overcome with want, he had to fight the urge to come right then.

Despite her earlier declarations, Aelin sucked him off like both of their lives depended on it, and Rowan could only hang on and enjoy the ride as her tongue worked miracles on his shaft and her hands found every pleasure point he craved.

He swore again as she massaged his stones before kneading the sensitive swath of skin behind them. As her touch grew more deliberate, he debated telling her she could push inside him before deciding it wasn’t exactly fodder for a one-night stand.

However, when her fingers trailed back to brush the tight ring of muscle, he couldn’t fight a groan.

“Yes?” She asked, keeping her touch light.

“Go ahead,” he said, breathless.

He didn’t think he’d never been so close to losing it as he was the moment she used her own wetness to coat her fingers before carefully teasing two inside of him.

His tattooed hand tightened in her hair, but he forced himself to otherwise remain still, to let her set the pace.

“Fuck, Aelin.”

Crooking her fingers to hit that perfect internal spot, she put her mouth on him again. Between her fingers and her tongue, he only lasted ten more strokes before he came hard .

Holy shit.

Rowan was no stranger to anything they’d just done, but he was fairly sure that was the best blowjob he’d ever had.

“As good as your imagined?” Aelin said with a smirk.

“Better,” Rowan said. “Way better. My turn.”

Picking her up, he tossed her on the bed before grabbing her ankle and dragging her towards him so her legs hung off the edge.

Wasting no time, he broke her legs apart and put his mouth right where he knew she needed him, sucking hard. However, he didn’t stay there for long, ignoring her attempts to manuever his mouth into position as he teased her.

“Rowan,” she choked. “You’re killing me.”

In answer he swirled his tongue around her bundle of nerves before alighting elsewhere.

“Rowan,” Aelin said.

He sucked on her this time, loving how she rocked her hips up to fuck his face. Still, he didn’t linger long enough for her release to find her.

“I’m going to kill—“

He glanced up at her, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the crease of her hip as she watched him.

“Beg me, Aelin,” he told her. “Beg me and I’ll give you an orgasm to make you cry.”

He laced her once, and she bucked.

“I don’t beg,” she said, even as he felt her contract once against his tongue.

The idea was turning her on.

“You haven’t begged before,” he corrected. “It doesn’t mean you won’t for me.”

At this he slid a finger inside of her, finding the right spot and applying pressure.

“Oh god,” she breathed. “More.”

Rowan pulled the finger out in response.

Aelin paused, heaving slightly as she considered before breathing, “Please, Ro.”

“Please what?”

“Please, give me what I want. I’m...begging you.”

Rowan slid two fingers inside of her, grinning.

“Really, this is your begging? Pathetic.”

“Harder.”

“Harder?”

He increased his speed, knowing she was right on the edge of where she needed to be. Still, he didn’t cross that line.

“Fuck,” Aelin said, voice almost a whine. “Rowan, I’m right there—just make me come.”

“If I do, will you beg me for my cock next?”

“I will give you anything you want,” she said. “Just...” she exhaled again. “Please.”

He bowed his head between her legs again, pumping his fingers as he tongued the spot he knew would set her off.

Driven the brink by all his edging, her climax seemed to shudder through her, muscles in her stomach flexing as she contracted against his mouth. He was careful to keep his touch feather-light as the orgasm crested and ebbed, knowing her body was too sensitive to be properly played with yet.

“Oh god,” she breathed, body still trembling slightly. “I don’t think I’ve ever had an orgasm that strong before. What did you do to me, Whitethorn?”

He crawled up to meet her, hands sinking into the mattress on either side of her head before he kissed her.

“Showed you what you’ve been missing, apparently.”

She arched her hips up to meet his, the contact making him harden again.

“Aelin,” he breathed, using both palms to scrape her sweaty hair from her face.

“Kiss me,” she said softly, gaze so sincere he had to close his eyes to avoid being overcome.

He did as she asked, keeping his touch gentle in an effort to to convey what he couldn’t bear to voice out loud: that this was more than just meaningless sex.

“I want you inside of me,” she said.

He rotated his hips against hers, cock brushing against her in a way that made her cry out softly.

“I need to grab a condom,” he said into her ear. “Don’t move.”

“And what if I do?”

He bent to kiss her deeply.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

Rowan smiled, rising from the bed to grab a condom from his wallet before crossing to the window. He deftly unknotted the silk tie which had been used to hold back the curtains and holding it up for her to see.

Aelin expelled a noise of pleasure so finely edged it was almost a whine. Slowly, deliberately, she raised her arms above her head in invitation, eyes hooded as she watched him approach.

Sliding over her, he slipped the length of silk around her wrists before synching it to the  headboard.

Aelin tugged I’m experimentation.

“Too tight?”

“No,” she said.

Rowan gently collared her throat as he bent to kiss her.

“Good girl.”

Rowan drew a finger down Aelin’s torso, circling her tight nipples before tracing her navel and venturing between her legs.

“I’m going to have to make this count,” he said, sliding two fingers into her again even as he held up the condom. “I only have one of these.”

“I have some in my suitcase,” she said. “Lucky for you, I think they’re magnums. Dream big, and all that.”

He grinned, making her laugh.

“Never hurts to be prepared,” she said.

“No it most certainly doesn’t,” he agreed, putting his mouth on her again.

She bucked off the bed and he used his hands to keep her hips pinned as she twisted against her restraints.

“If only I had a spreader bar,” he told her. “I would really have you at my mercy.”

“I’m at your mercy now,” she said. “Take me.”

That, Rowan could not resist.

Quickening the pace of his fingers, he concentrated on her clit until she shattered again. Only when she’d settled back on to the bed, legs quaking slightly, did he tear open the wrapper of the condom, sheathing himself with a practiced hand.

“You’re probably going to be extra tight from the orgasms,” he told her. “So I’m going to go slow at first.”

She nodded, and he kissed her again before grabbing his shaft and sliding a few inches into her.

“Tight” had perhaps been an understatement. The pressure of her was mind-numbing, spine-tingling bliss. Still, he forced himself to pause and take in her expression.

Her brows were synched, breath ragged. He bent to kiss the tightened corners of her eyes before brushing his lips to hers.

“Talk to me, gorgeous,” he breathed. “How are you doing?”

“You’re—big,” she said, voice still tense. “I’m just trying to adjust.”

“Relax,” he coached, petting a hand down the tense muscles in her stomach. “Breathe, Aelin.”

At this she let out a shuddering exhale, even mewing a little as he reached down to play with her.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he said, working her with the pad of his thumb. “Let me in.”

With that the some of the tenseness in her body loosened, and she moaned. He pushed in farther, kissing her deeply until she was forced to take another calming exhale.

When he shifted her hips and pulled her the rest of the way onto his shaft, she melted. He couldn’t hold back his groan of pleasure as he sank in effortlessly to the hilt, his stones brushing her soft ass.

“Fuck,” she said. “Why does that feel so good?”

He rose onto his knees, tilting her hips up on the process. She groaned.

“Because I bet no one’s hit this spot with you before,” he said.

Rearing back slightly, he thrust into her with delicious intent.

She bit her lip.

“Yours is deep,” he said.

Her answering laugh was husky.

“Are you trying to suggest you’re the biggest dick I’ve ever had?”

He smirked, unable to deny the smug masculine satisfaction that slithered through him at the thought.

“You said it, not me.”

He pulled back and thrust into her a second time. At this she squirmed a little, eyes firmly shut again.

“Yes, Aelin?” He said, repeating the gesture a third time.

She wiggled, trying to get more friction.

“Yes,” she said. “Oh god, yes.”

With that he increased his pace, loving the obscene sound their bodies made as they came together. Christ, had it ever felt this good?

He rode her hard but tried to maintain a pace that wouldn’t cause her an unpleasant amount of friction. From her moans, he was doing a better than alright job.

Rowan drank her in as she writhed beneath him, her body covered in a glistening sheen of sweat, her small breasts bouncing with the force of his thrusts.

When he reached a hand between her legs to play with her again, she swore, tightening around him.

“I’m so close.”

“Say my name," he said, left hand wrapping around the headboard for better leverage as he drove into her with increased force. “I want to hear you say my name when you come, Aelin.”

She surged forward, tongue tangled with his in a desperate kiss.

"Ro," she breathed. “Rowan.”

Rowan had to fend off a strangled moan at the reverence in her voice.

When he'd made the demand, he'd imagined her screaming it the way other women had, like it was a triumph that needed to be heralded. But hearing it whispered, as if it were a secret meant only for him, had been so much more powerful.

He instantly knew why: because this was so much more than mindless sex.

He felt the exact moment she came apart around him, loving the pressure as she squeezed him in a vice. Deftly he untied her bound hands, allowing her to wrap her arms around his neck as he kissed her.

He couldn’t hold back the pleasured groan which escaped as he found his own climax, hips nestled to hers as he drove in deep a final time.

God, what he wouldn’t give to come inside this girl for real. It was a selfish thought, but one Ro couldn’t immediately shake. He didn’t often think about babies of his own, but something about Aelin Galathynius made him want to have a million.

He shook his head slightly, desperate to rid himself of the notion of having children with a woman he’d just met. He kissed her instead, using the feeling of her lips against him to ground him more fully into reality.

When he felt he’d mastered himself, he pulled back to meet Aelin’s eye, mildly horrified to find that hers were glassy. Despite his earlier declaration about wanting to have her in tears, actually seeing them in her eyes had his heart dropping out of his chest.

“Oh god, you’re crying,” he blurted, quickly pulling out of her and touching her cheek. “Aelin, why are you crying?”

At this she snorted, the sound halfway between a laugh and a sob.

“Because that so intense I almost don’t know what to do with myself,” she admitted. “And when I get overwhelmed I always end up crying.”

He frowned, brushing her petal-soft cheek again.

“Good overwhelmed or bad?”

“Good,” she said. “Definitely good. That was just so—“ she blew out a shaky inhale, another tear slipping from the corner of her eye. “I came so hard I think my brain just stalled for a second.”

He couldn’t help but grin, even as he gently brushed the moisture from her cheek.

“I don’t think I’ve ever broken someone’s brain before,” he said. “Should I take that as a compliment?”

She laughed, the sound easier this time.

“Don’t be annoying,” she said. “You know how good you are.”

“What can I say? You inspire greatness in me, Galathynius.”

He bent to gently kiss her, his finger drawing a an ever-tightening circle around one erect nipple. Her back arched slightly at his featherlight touch, goosebumps breaking out across her small breasts.

“You are so gorgeously responsive,” he told her, bending to tug the opposite nipple with his teeth. “It’s like your whole body is a hot spot. It makes it impossible to stop touching you. I could seriously play with you all night.”

“It’s not usually like this,” Aelin admitted after a beat, threading her hand into his hair. When she spoke again, her tone was softer, more candid. “Most the time I’m too in my head, and it makes it hard to get turned on enough to let go.”

“What made tonight different?” Rowan asked, brushing the hair out her face.

He was fairly sure he already knew, but he needed to hear her say it, to take ownership of the feeling.

“I feel safe with you,” she said. “I don’t know why—you’re basically still a stranger—but I do.”

Rowan smiled, kissing her more deeply this time.

“I told you that you’d let go for me,” he breathed against her lips. “How did it feel, gorgeous?”

“Incredible,” she said, shifting her hips in search of friction as he settled more fully on top of her again. “I didn’t want it to end.”

Deftly, Rowan peeled off the condom and threw it into the trash.

“Who said it had to?” He asked grabbing her hips and rotating so he was on his back, Aelin nestled in his lap. “That was just round one.”

In response, She reached for his shaft to begin getting him hard, but he caught her wrist instead.

“It’s a marathon, Galathynius, not sprint,” he said, flipping her hand in his so he could kiss her palm. “And your body’s not ready for me to be inside you again yet.”

Aelin seemed a bit flustered at that, which left Rowan feeling torn. On the one hand, he hating thinking he’d embarrassed her or made her uncomfortable. On the other, the idea that he has the ability to make swaggering, sensuous Aelin Ashryvver-Galathynius bashful filled him with deep-seated satisfaction.

Seeming to read the intention in his gaze, she bent to kiss him, whispering, “you don’t have to.”

He pushed her back gently so he could look into her face.

“Don’t have to what?”

“Go down on me again. I know most guys don’t like to do it again once they’ve—“

“That’s amateur hour,” Rowan said, tone sharper than he’d meant it to be. “Whichever pin-headed prick told you that is a loser.”

She laughed, relaxing a little. At seeing this, Rowan settled more fully on his back, hands braced on her hips.

“Come here,” he said, voice rough with desire.

He was rewarded with a pretty blush.

“I’ve never...done it like that,” she admitted.

He smirked.

“Then I’m about to give you an important lesson in pleasure. Come here.”

Rising onto her knees, Aelin rose over Rowan until she was mere inches from his face.

“I feel like I’m going to suffocate you!” She said with a sheepish laugh.

“Then I’ll die the luckiest man on earth,” he said, gripping her ass. “Hold onto the headboard.”

She did, and he lifted his head just enough that the tip of his tongue brushed the most sensitive part of her.

Her whole body tightened in pleasure.

“Do that again,” she said, sounding more her confident self now.

“No,” he told her. “This position is about you being in control.  I don’t give you pleasure; you take it.”

When she still didn’t move, he added, “this should be no problem for an imperious little thing like you.”

He knew goading her would do the trick, and after a moment she relaxed her hips, body sinking down to meet his waiting mouth. He couldn’t stifle a groan as she rocked her hips against him in experimentation. Seeing Aelin in is position, vulnerable but in control, was hotter than her could have possibly imagined.

Rowan flicked his tongue against her and she swore.

“That feels good,” she breathed, rocking forward against his mouth again. “Really good.”

His hands on the back of her thighs, he urged her hips forward, grazing her with his teeth before sucking hard.

This proved to be her unleashing.

Using the headboard for leverage, she began swishing her lips in a rhythmic motion, panting softly through her teeth as she worked herself up to climax.

He kneaded the soft flesh of her backside while she rocked against him, trying not to imagine what it would be like to slide his cock into her tight little ass. He had no idea if she was into that sort of thing nor any desire to pressure her into finding out, but the way she rocked back into his hands—as if urging them to explore—was enough to make him curious.

Hands on her waist, he tilted her pelvis towards him slightly, waiting to see how she’d react. In response she scooted higher on his body, her knees practically touching to the headboard. In this new position, there was no part of her he couldn’t access, and when she leaned forward, the invitation was clear.

Using his hands to open her legs more fully for him, he brushed his mouth against an intimate spot that—judging by her deep moan—no one had even touched before. When he repeated the gesture and she didn’t tense or pull away, he split legs even wider and circled the tight ring of muscle at the back with his tongue.

“Fuck,” she said, voice devolving into a string of slurred Spanish. “Rowan.”

Rowan worked her in broader strokes, his free hand coming up to play with her clit. When he slipped a finger inside of her he could tell she was getting close. Not wanting to claim the victory of her orgasm with only his fingers, he pulled her hips down so his tongue could replace his hand.

Far bolder now that she’d been when they’d started, Aelin followed his lead. Her fingers twined in his hair as she rocked against him hard, and Rowan was happy enough to sit back and watch as she took her pleasure like he’d instructed.

Between the rimjob and the edging, Aelin’s orgasm—when it hit—seemed to last a blissful eternity. She was trembling slightly as she collapsed beside him, eyes still closed.

“That was the hottest thing I think I’ve ever seen,” he said.

He gently cupped between her legs, careful not to apply too much pressure when she was still so sensitive.

“You’re telling me that?” she said with a laugh. “I’ve done it that to other people, obviously, but I’ve never let anyone—“ she broke off with another laugh. “Apparently I’ve been missing out.”

Rowan smirked, if only to hide the twinging realization that after tonight, it would someone else making her feel good, not him.

“I hope I didn’t set an impossible standard,” he said dryly.

“Maybe not yet,” she said, eyes blazing with want. “But you’re well in your way, and the night is still young.”

She let her azure gaze snake down his body with exaggerated slowness. By the time it reached his cock, he was granite-hard.

“Where are the rest of the condoms?” he asked.

If he wasn’t inside of her in the next minute, he might actually lose his mind.

“Bathroom,” she said, rising to her feet. “I’ll be right back.”

Rowan didn’t have time for that. He rose from the bed to follow her into the lavish en-suite. Normally he might of gawked a little at the opulence—the marble countertops, the sunken tub—but his entire focus was on Aelin. The best he could do was shift the lens to the things in her periphery. Everything else was a blur.

She was just straightening—foil packet in hand—as he entered, and he didn’t even give her a chance speak before her grabbed her around the waist, spinning her so his chest was pressed into her back.

Taking the condom, he ripped open the package and slid it on with one hand while his other moved between her legs to ensure she was ready for him.

“How do you feel?” He asked. “Do you need me to—“

“Whitethorn, if I was any wetter I’d be Nile. Get inside me already.”

It was all the permission Rowan needed. Hand on her back, he coaxed her to bend, using his legs to push hers wider as he did. She yelped softly as her bare breasts made contact with the cold marble, and he ran a hand over the curve of her hip to settle her before sliding to the hilt in single stroke.

It felt better, even, than it had the first time. She clenched around the intrusion of him even as she moaned, and he only managed to wait a beat before grabbing her hips and setting a blistering pace.

He glanced in the mirror and their gazes caught in the reflection, her desire molten.

Wanting more, he coaxed her up until her torso lifted from the counter.

Yes, he thought with greedy satisfaction. This.

This was what he wanted. Her firm tits bouncing with each hard thrust, her hips rocking back and forth, and her eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.

Gently collaring her throat with his hand, he whispered in her ear.

“Touch yourself for me.”

She did, canting her hips forward for increased friction as she moaned.

As she increased the speed with her hand, Rowan increased his, fucking her hard through her orgasm as she tightened around him.

She collapsed against the counter as he pulled her hips flush to his for one final thrust before coming undone.

She wobbled when he stepped back to pull off the condom, and he deftly caught her around the waist before she melted to the floor like a newborn fawn.

“Easy,” he said, coaxing her into his arms.

She laid her head on his shoulder.

“I think your dick has mystical powers,” she said. “Because that was insane.”

Rowan chuckled, carrying her to the bed and laying her down.

“There’s a Harry Potter joke in there somewhere,” he said, brushing some hair off her sweaty cheek as her eyelids drooped. “I’m just too lazy to find it.”

“Harry Potter references,” she said, already half-asleep. “Are you trying to make me fall in love with you?”

She was out before he could even respond, but he did anyway, lips to her temple as he whispered, “I wish I could.”

XX

Ro woke up at sunrise the next morning, Aelin still fast asleep beside him. Not quite in his arms, but still close enough that he could feel her warmth. Christ, she smelled incredible. Like lemon and coconut.

He propped his head on a chin, admiring the way the dawn light set her skin and hair to glowing. She looked like a fallen star.

Rowan’s heart ached a bit as he studied her, trying to memorize every detail, knowing that their time together was quickly running out. Originally, he’d only planned to stay the night, promising himself that as soon as the dark was gone, he would be, too.

In the light of day, he knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. Perhaps it was only asking for more trouble, but Rowan wanted to stay at least for the morning.

He could bring her coffee from that shop Cash loved; if Ro remembered correctly, it wasn’t far from here. He could go get it while she was still sleeping, and make her breakfast when she woke up.

He wouldn’t stay all day, he promised himself, just long enough that she knew she wasn’t some meaningless screw he’d fucked and then chucked. Surely she deserved that much, at least.

Unable to resist, he ran a hand down the silky mane of her hair, slightly tangled from their numerous romps the night before, before rising from the bed as quietly and creeping towards the bedroom door. He found his boxers briefs and shorts easily enough. He just needed to find his—

“Leaving so soon?”

He turned to find Aelin sitting up in the bed, that signature smirk painted on her pouty mouth. She hadn’t bothered to pull up the sheet to cover herself, and her breasts were fully visible, the studs in them winking in the crepuscular light pouring in from the window.

“Only to get some coffee,” he said, loving the way the tension which had limned her muscles disappeared. She’d been displeased with the idea of him leaving, even if she hadn’t wanted to show it.

Her next smile was far easier.

“I have coffee here,” she said.

“Not like this you don’t,” he said with a grin. “There is no coffee on earth better than the beans for the Kona Mountains.”

Her expression grew feline.

“You dare say such things to a Cuban?” She said. “If Galen were here, he’d have you tarred and feathered.”

Rowan recalled the coffee he’d had on a trip to Havana during the short period travel when from the US to Cuba had been permitted. She wasn’t wrong; it had been fucking delicious. Still, he wasn’t going to give up that easy.

“That’s more like espresso; not the same as having a full mug with you while you watch the sun rise.”

“The sun’s already risen,” Aelin said with a smile. “And coffee should be strong and decadent, and that’s what a cortadito is. You can keep your vat of hot bean water; a little is all you need. Just enough to whet the appetite.”

Rowan couldn’t help but grin.

“Awfully set in your ways for a person who’s so young.”

“I’m only five years younger than you,” Aelin pointed out. “And I didn’t hear any complaints from you last night.”

“That’s because I have none,” Rowan admitted. “You’re—“

He broke off, not wanting to embarass himself with verbose declarations now that they were both stone sober.

“I’m—“ Aelin prompted, standing from the bed. She was still naked as they day she was born, and it was an effort not to admire her.

“You know what you are,” Rowan said.

“I do,” Aelin agreed, slinking forward and draping her arms over Rowan’s shoulders. “But it hits different coming from you.”

It was the same thing he’d told her the night before, and he decided to indulge her the way she had him.

“You’re perfect,” he said, his hand slipping around her bare waist to tug her into him.

He kissed her softly, and he could feel her answering smile against his lips.

“Yes, I am,” she said, and he couldn’t help it.

He laughed, lifting her off her feet and heading towards the bed with her still in his arms. When he was close enough he tossed her onto the wrinkled nest of sheets and pillows before crawling over her.

“What am I going to do with you, Galathynius?”

She laughed as he playfully nuzzled her neck.

“Feed me? I’m starving after your thorough ravishing last night.”

“I think I can do that,” he said, bending to kiss her.

Still, he couldn’t bring himself to get up right away. Instead he rolled onto his side so he was facing her, trying not to preen as she traced a whorl of his tattoo.

“We never talked about these last night,” she said, her featherlight touch making goosebumps appear on his skin.   “They’re...Hawaiian?”

“Māori,” Rowan said. “I grew up on Maui, but my family is originally from farming town near Auckland.”

Aelin’s eyes glittered with interest.

“Have you even been there?”

“To New Zealand?” Rowan shrugged. “We used to go every few years while my grandparents were still alive. At the time it seemed boring. Now I’m glad we got the opportunity.”

Aelin nodded, still tracing his tattoos. She’d moved from his shoulder to his chest, fingers trailing closer and closer to his heart. To—

“And this one?” Aelin said. “It doesn’t look Māori.”

Rowan’s throat ached a bit as she ran the tips of her fingers over the letters at the very center of the massive design, directly above his heart.

Λυρία

“It’s Greek,” he explained.

She glanced up at him, gaze full of emotion as she said quietly, “It looks like a name.”

He nodded, throat growing tight.

“Lyria.”

Aelin didn’t push for clarification, but after a beat Rowan found himself speaking anyway.

“She’s my—she was my—“

When he broke off, Aelin only nodded.

“What happened?”

“Non-Hodgkins lymphoma. It was stage four by the time they caught it. She was gone within six months of her diagnosis.”

Aelin reached up to gently cup Rowan’s cheek.

“I’m so sorry, Rowan.”

He’d had people apologize to him a thousand times for Lyria’s untimely death, but something in Aelin’s tone was different. It was sympathetic but also...understanding, somehow.

“Have you ever lost someone you thought would be in your life forever?”

Aelin considered this before flipping her wrist and extending  it. There, inked in neat script, were three small letters Rowan hadn’t noticed before.

S-a-m

“We were high school sweethearts and went to UT together,” she explained. “My sophomore year we lived in an apartment together in West Campus, but we’d started to talk about moving after there had been a series of unsolved rapes in the neighborhood. We were on the first floor and Sam was worried about me being there when he was on the road for baseball season. The night I finally agreed we could start looking for another place, there was a break-in.”

She paused, brows furrowed as she continued to study the tattoo.

“The guy had a gun, and told Sam that if he cooperated it would be over quickly and neither of us would get hurt. But Sam refused, and he fought the guy off while I called the cops. He got shot while they were struggling with the gun, and by the time the paramedics got there it was too late.”

“Aelin, I...” Rowan paused, not wanting to saying the wrong thing. “That must have been awful. I’m so sorry.”

Aelin nodded, rubbing the tattoo with her thumb.

“Me too,” she said. “I miss him a lot.”

That, Rowan certainly understood. There wasn’t a day that went by that Rowan didn’t miss Lyria.

“Did they ever catch the perp?”

“Yeah, the guy’s gloves came off in the struggle and he ended up leaving prints. Cairn Macgory. Turned out he was a law student, top honors, no criminal record. The only reason they had his fingerprints was because of his application to take the bar. He was going to be a family law attorney. He already had a job lined up after school.”

“I hope he rots in hell,” Rowan said honestly, hating the haunted look that had crept into Aelin’s eyes.

“He’s honestly just lucky the cops got to him first,” she said. “My dad was ready to have him black-bagged back to Cuba and cut into little pieces.”

“I’m sort of sorry he didn’t,” Rowan admitted, and this—unexpectedly—made Aelin laugh.

“Aren’t you a cop? I thought you’d be all gung-ho for law and order.”

“Even cops can want revenge.”

Some of Aelin’s mirth faded at this, and she looked up to study him. It was an odd feeling to be so exposed, but Rowan found he didn’t mind it coming from Aelin. After a moment she relented, leaning over to rest her head on his shoulder.

“Sorry, that was sort of heavy for a one-night stand.”

Rowan strung an arm around her sturdy shoulders as he ignored the twinge in his gut.

A one-night stand.

He’d never stayed the morning with his previous one-night stands, and he’d certainly never told any of them about Lyria, so how could that be what this was?

Before he could damn the consequences and ask Aelin about it, she slipped from his embrace, grinning at him over a shoulder.

“Can I make you a cortadito, or have I scared you off?”

He grabbed her hand to pull her back.

“I’ll have coffee,” he told her rising onto his knees and she sank back onto the bed half-way. “And after that I’ll take you to breakfast.”

“You’re friends won’t be missing you?

Rowan traced her hipbones with this thumbs, everything he’d done to her the previous evening flooding back.

“They’re adults,” he said breezily, leaning forward to kiss the soft skin between her breasts. “They’ll be fine.”

Aelin drove a hand into his hair, her grip light and playful.

“You phones been blowing up for 20 minutes,” she pointed out.

“That’s just Cash being nosy.”

“He’s not dating anyone?”

“Not that I know of,” Rowan admitted setting back onto the bed and tugging her casually into his lap. “But Cash has always been full of secrets; it’s part of his charm.”

“What about the other two?” She asked. “The gorgeous one and the grouch.”

“Fenrys is more a serial dater,” Rowan said. “Mostly because his taste in men is garbage. He always falls for the haole fuckboys  then cries when they turn out to be assholes.”

“Haole?” Aelin said.

“Non-Polynesians, technically,” Rowan explained. “But most of the time Hawaiians just use it to mean—“

“Gringos,” Aelin said, grinning. “They do love to make trouble, don’t they?”

Rowan had to laugh at this.

“Fen would certainly say so.”

Aelin nodded, laughing as well.

“So that just leaves—”

“Lorcan,” Rowan said. “His bark is worse than his bite.”

“Aedion said he played him in Volleyfest last year in Miami. Why didn’t y’all compete in the men’s division together?”

Rowan rubbed the back of his neck.

“It’s...complicated.”

“I assume this has to do with your ex?”

“She invited me to play in with her. Lor wasn’t even supposed to be here this weekend. He decided to surprise me last minute.”

“So there is a gooey center underneath the scowl!” Aelin said.

“To be honest, I think Lor is probably the most sensitive and caring of all four of us. He just—isn’t good at emoting. He’s also a fastidious believer in ‘boys night’, though I think that’s just because he’s not good at chatting women up.”

“Bet he wasn’t too thrilled with me last night then, huh?”

“He’ll get over it. And he still pulls like crazy, even with his terrible flirting. Usually women take one look at him and decide they don’t even care if he can talk at all.”

Aelin laughed.

“I figured as much,” she said, rising from the bed again. “I have a lot of follow-up questions, but I need a shower before we go. Care to join me?”

She was already halfway to the open bathroom door when Rowan found his feet again, and wasting no time, he quickly swept her up in his arms and carried her the rest of the way.

After they spent forty-fives minutes fooling around in the shower and another hour having sex against nearly every available surface in the suite, breakfast—inevitably—turned to lunch.

After lunch, they’d joined a pick-up “king of the beach” doubles tournament some of the previous day’s competitors had set up. They’d made such a good team that it was nearly evening by the time they lost a match and were finally bumped off the champion court.

Starving from the exertion, they’d gone back to the suite to shower before leaving again to go to dinner. Dinner had turned into cocktails on the beach, which had turned into beers  drinks at Bar 35 then tequila shots at Smith & Kings. The evening that followed was a blur of pleasure, as was the following morning, which they spend in bed together, naked and sweaty.

At every turn Rowan told himself he needed to leave, need to start distancing himself from Aelin so he could start trying to forget her. However, he’d known from the start that it had been a fools errand.

There was no forgetting a girl like Aelin Ashryvver-Galathynius. Her vivacity, her humor, her raw sexual charisma—Rowan had never met anyone like her, and he doubted he ever would again.

So how the fuck was he supposed to just let her go? It was a thought that plagued him all the way to the airport on the afternoon Aelin was due to fly back to the mainland. He’d agreed to accompany her for a last drink before her flight departed, wanting to wring every last second he could out of the weekend.

It was—he knew—only delaying the inevitable by continually putting off their goodbyes, but Ro couldn’t help it. Aelin was like the sun—vibrant and essential—and Rowan had found himself in her orbit.

Harsh realities aside, it was a painfully lovely place to be.

Ro definitely felt a shift in the vibe as he paid their tab and they headed towards the security gate. Things had gone from easy and playful to quiet and subdued, Aelin’s usual flair dimming as she continually adjusted the bag on her shoulder.

Rowan searched and searched for the words he would say to her when they were finally forced to part. They’d never even exchanged numbers; perhaps he could ask for hers and offer to call her if he was ever in Austin?

It seems so stilted and formal after everything they’d shared this weekend. He’d been inside of her, for Christ’s sake. In fact, they’d had so much sex that they’d had to buy more condoms. And she’d fallen asleep in his arms last night, and stayed there until they’d woken up this morning. That was worth more than some vague promise to “look her up” if he even came to Texas.

Still, Ro was burning daylight and he knew it. The security gate was visible now, and though they’d both seemed to slow their pace in an effort to delay the inevitable, it was approaching just the same. Finally they reached the short queue where agents were checking boarding passes and travelers were taking off their shoes and belts.

Aelin was busy on her phone as they slowed to a stop, almost as if she were avoiding looking at him.

“My cousins are already at the gate,” she said by way of explanation. “They said boarding is starting in twenty minutes.”

Rowan glanced at the security line then his watch.

“You’ve got time; things seem to be moving pretty fast.”

Aelin looked over at the line as well. Finally she dragged her azure eyes back to him, the sheer force of her gaze enough to stun him stupid. She paused, as if waiting for him to speak. He had nothing, though.

“Well,” she said finally, a small, tense smile playing around her lips.  “I would offer to shake your hand and say ‘it was nice to meet you’, but given the fact we’ve seen each other naked, I think I’ll spare us both the indignity.”

Rowan forced a laugh, even as a pit began forming in his stomach. Shit, should he give her a hug, offer to give her—

“Goodbye, Rowan,” she said, leaning up to brush a kiss just to the right of his mouth. “It’s been—“ she clearly her throat, glancing away for a second. “I had an amazing weekend.”

“Congratulations again,” he found himself saying. “For making the AVP tour. You deserve it.”

Jesus Fucking Christ, was that really the best he could do? Maybe Fen was right, and he was destined to die alone.

Aelin’s grin didn’t quite meet her eyes.

“Like I said, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Happy to help,” he forced out. “Have a safe flight, Aelin.”

She smiled, the solemnity in her eyes now limning her face as well.

“I put my number in your phone,” she said, beginning to walk backwards towards the TSA podium. “Call me if you’re ever in Austin.”

With that she turned, and Rowan’s heart was suddenly in his throat, beating two hundred times a minute.

His mind whirred with all the reasons he had to simply let her leave—she still in college, they lived thousands of miles apart, he was a cop in Vice Squad and she was a fucking billionaire—a perceived conflict of interest even if it wasn’t a real one. There was no way it could ever work. It was hopeless, fraught with problems, doomed to fail—

He could hear his pulse pounding in his ears as he continued to spiral, thoughts growing so jumbled that he could hardly make sense of them anymore. Then a single, cogent thread emerged through the cacaphony and chaos, spooling him back to sanity.

A voice.

“Anóitos,” it teased, the tone soft and airy. “What are you doing? Don’t just stand there!”

Fuck , he missed that voice.

It had been three years since he’d lost Lyria. Three years since he’d heard her laugh, or sing, or speak Greek.

Three long, terrible years since he’d heard her speak at all.

But even after all this time, her voice was crystal clear in his head. He often felt it was her absence—more than her memory—that he’d been left with when she’d died. In that moment, though, it almost felt as if Lyria were standing beside him.

“Go, Ro. I’ll be here.”

Rowan felt a warmth tingle through him, and as he blinked back to reality, Lyria’s voice seemed to fade. But where he’d been buzzing with doubt a moment before, Rowan felt himself suddenly brimming with clarity.

If there was anything he’d learned from Lyria’s sickness, it was that life was simply too short to waste.

Lyria had died with her would-be engagement ring still in tucked away in Ro’s dresser drawer. He hated himself for the cowardice, but when she got sick he couldn’t bring herself to ask her to marry him. He’d wanted to believe that if he put off giving her the ring it might somehow serve as a talisman to keep her from leaving him. It hadn’t though, and instead she’d died never getting to be his wife.

It was a mistake he couldn’t afford to make a second time. It was improbable that he and Aelin would get married, but he felt he owed them both the opportunity to find out.

His mind was made up; fuck, he was really doing this.

“Aelin!”

She turned, watching with bemusement as he jogged toward her.

“What—“ she began, but he cut her off.

“I don’t want this to be over,” he blurted.

Aelin sagged a bit, a genuine smile splitting her face.

“Oh thank God,” she said.

Setting down her bag, she started towards him and they met halfway. Rowan cradled her face in his hands and he bent to kiss her. She fisted the fabric of his T-shirt at the hips as the kiss intensified.

“So what does this mean?” Aelin said, slightly breathless as she pulled away. “I’ve never done this before.”

Rare for her to admit she wasn’t perfect at something.

“We’ll have to figure it out as we go,” Rowan said. “My detective’s exam is in two weeks, and then I get a week off. I can come to Austin then?”

She nodded.

“Are we...” Aelin paused, biting her lip. “I mean, do you want to be...”

“Be what?”

“Exclusive?”

“Yes!”

It was out before he could stop it, so he quickly amended, “but only if you—“

“Yes,” she said, smile easier now. “I want that.”

“And are we...using labels?”

She smirked.

“Three days in and you’re already trying to wife me up?”

Now it was Rowan’s turn to flush.

“Okay, no labels—“

“I didn’t say that,” Aelin said quickly. “I just don’t want to jinx a good thing by moving too fast. What if you get back to LA and realize you accidentally got a girlfriend you don’t want? You did drink a lot of tequila this weekend.”

“Never,” he said gently, taking her cheeks in his hands. “Doubt that I want you, Aelin Ashryvver-Galathynius. And I’m fine to wait, if that’s what you want.”

“But...”

He felt his lips tugging again.

“But it’s doesn’t feel soon, not to me.”

“So....labels?” she said.

“Labels,” he agreed.

She grinned, kissing him again.

“In that case, your girlfriend has to go or she’s going to miss her flight and turn into your live-in girlfriend.”

“Honestly, your boyfriend wouldn’t mind.”

Aelin scrunched her nose, even as she laughed a bit.

“We agree the third person thing is creepy, right?”

“Yes, thank you God,” Rowan said, laughing with her.

“Dame un beso,” Aelin said, grabbing the collar of his shirt in an effort to tug his lips closer to hers. “Or I really am going to miss this flight.”

Knowing his time was short, Rowan made the kiss count, teasing Aelin with his lips and tongue until she was slightly breathless.

“See you in three weeks,” he said, pulling away.

He set the bag Aelin had abandoned on her shoulder and kissed her quickly again.

“And text me when you get on the plane so I know you’ve made it.”

She grinned, kissing him a final time before jogging off towards security once again.

“Oh and just fair warning,” she said, spinning on a heel to grin at him as she joined the short line. “My cousins are not going to like this. Might want to sleep with one eye open for a while.”

“You tell me this now?”

“Te veo pronto, querido,” she said in response, kissing her hand in farewell before showing the TSA agent her boarding pass and disappearing into the concourse.

He waited several minutes before pulling out his phone to text her. As he did, his phone chirped to signal an incoming text.

Did I mention I also stole your number and put it in my phone? 😈 💋

Troublemaker, he wrote back. Did you make it?

Yes. Wish you were here to join the Mile High Club with me.

Before Rowan could even formulate a response to that, his phone chimed again, this time from a number he didn’t know.

This is Aedion Ashryvver, it said. Treat her right or I’ll break both your kneecaps.

His phone went off a third time, the new text also from an unknown number.

Not just your kneecaps, either.

Galen Ashryvver, if Ro had to guess.

Ignoring Aelin’s cousins, he replied to her instead, saying simply, Seems like good news travels fast

The grey ellipsis pulsed for a moment as Aelin typed.

Aedion said it was their price for letting us stay in the suite alone all weekend. Taking off now. Talk to you soon ✌️ ✈️

Then it was worth it, Rowan sent back. Have a safe flight. Call me when you get stateside.

Aelin sent back a heart, and Rowan had to fight down an annoyingly girlish fluttering in his stomach as he dialed a new number and put the phone to his ear.

It only rang twice before the line clicked.

“He lives!” Cash said in greeting. “Welcome back from the island  of puss—“

“Very funny,” Rowan interjected. “Where are you?”

“Hideaway. Where are you, honeymoon chapel in Vegas?”

Rowan rolled his eyes.

“Ha-ha.”

Cash scoffed.

“Ha-ha, that’s all I get? You’ve been gone for two days, brother! I want details.”

“I’ll tell you everything when I get there.”

“Just give me a quick teaser: do you have a girlfriend now?”

Rowan growled, making Cash laugh.

“I told you!” He said to someone on his end, presumably Lor or Fen.

“You’re seriously dating her?” Lor demanded a second later. “Like full-blown ‘exclusively-fucking, using-labels’ dating her?”

“Full-blown.”

“I KNEW IT!” Cash called, just as Lor growled, “fuck me, man.”

“You owe me a drink,” Lorcan told Rowan. “I just lost 200 bucks because of you.”

“I’ll buy you a shot of house tequila,” Rowan said, unable to keep in a smile. “Final offer.”

“Hurry up,” was Lorcan’s only response. “Before Kahukore explodes from the anticipation.”

“Getting my popcorn as we speak!” Cash called from the background, and with that Rowan hung up.

A short Uber ride later, Rowan strolled into the Hideaway Inn, his friends wolf-whistling as he approached.

Cash was on his feet first, grabbing Rowan by the shoulders an inspecting him head-to-toe.

“What are you doing?” Rowan said, playfully pushing out of Cash’s grip.

“Just taking you in,” Cash said with a disarming smile. “It feels like it’s been an age since we last saw you!”

Rowan rolled his eyes, and Fen added, “Pretty dark circles you’ve got there, lover boy. Galathynius keep you up all night?”

“I am not answering that,” Rowan said. “Or any questions about what she’s like in bed.”

“Why?” Cash cooed. “Because she’s your girlfriend?”

“You’re both clowns,” Rowan said.

“You’re the one dating a teenager,” Lor said. “So who’s the clown now?”

“She’s 21,” Rowan said. “And green isn’t a good color on your, Salvaterre, so just relax.”

Lorcan smirked.

“Jealous? Of you dating a Amazonian she-devil? I don’t think so.”

“That is exactly what a jealous person would say,” Fen pointed out. “Chin up, Lor, your time will come.”

Lorcan only snarled in response.

“What do we think Salvaterre’s  eventual lady love going to be like?” Cash chimed in. “Betting line’s officially open, gents.”

“Tiny,” Rowan and Fen both said at the same time.

“Fifty bucks says he ends up marrying a girl under 5’4,” Fen added.

“Grow up,” Lor said with an eye roll, though Ro had known him long enough to tell he wasn’t actually bothered by the conversation.

“Make me,” Fen said.

Lor jerked his head the pool table in the back corner.

“I beat you, you owe me fifty bucks and you shut your cakehole.”

“And if I win?” Fen said.

“You won’t, so it doesn’t matter. Let’s do this.”

Lor shot Rowan a quick, conspiratorial nod, and Ro realized Lor had done it on purpose, to give Rowan and Cash a chance to talk.

It was one of the things that Ro loved about Lorcan Salvaterre. He was perceptive in seeing what people needed, and not jealous or petty. Somehow, he’d seemed to sense Rowan’s need to talk to Cash alone, even if Ro himself hadn’t realized it until just now.

He gave Lor a grateful smile, and Lor turned to clap Fen on the back, leading him towards the billiards table in the back.

“So,” Cash said, flagging the bartender down and ordered two beers and two shots of whiskey. “Tell me everything.”

He clicked his glass to Rowan’s in salute and they both tipped the shots back. Rowan winced a bit at the taste before running a hand through his hair, trying to collect his thoughts.

He ran Cash quickly through the weekend’s events, skipping over the more X-rated content and ending with his and Aelin’s agreement at the airport.

“Damn,” Cash said when Rowan had finished. “Are you sure this girl isn’t a witch? Because she has you under a spell.”

Rowan laughed.

“She’s—” he began, breaking off with a sheepish laugh. “I really like her, man.”

“You’re smitten,” Cash said with a grin. “Look at you!”

Rowan opened his mouth to deny it before shrugging.

“Being with her feels different somehow. It isn’t just that she’s gorgeous or funny or smart, even though she’s all of those things. It’s more than that.”

Cash considered this, but he didn’t tease the way Ro feared he might. Instead he simply asked, “what of you mean?”

Rowan blew out a breath.

“There’s just something about her that’s almost... familiar . Like I’ve been looking for her my whole life, even without knowing it. I know that sounds crazy, but...”

Rowan shrugged again, tracing the rim of his glass.

“She’s just special.”

Cash’s smiled, a softer thing than his fiendish grin from before.

“I’ve never seen you like this, brother.” He paused, his expression growing more reverent as he added in a softer voice, “Not in a long time, at least.”

They were quiet a moment as they both silently recalled the memories that hung unspoken between them. Cash had been the first important person in his life that Rowan had introduced Lyria to, and over the years, Cash was the one who’d come to know Lyria the best; he’d been her friend in his own right.

He couldn’t see it at the time, but when Ro finally emerged from his own grief over Lyria’s death, it was realize that Cash had been grieving as well; he’d simply put his aside to focus on helping Rowan heal instead. 

It was hard to describe what that sacrifice had meant to Ro; the nice thing about a friendship as deep as theirs was that Rowan didn’t have to explain his gratitude for Cash to understand it. It was implicit in every conversation they ever had about Lyria, even this one.

“You want to know the weirdest part?” Rowan said finally. “When I was watching Aelin walk away, it felt like, I don’t know, like Lyria was there with me. Like she was telling me ‘go get her’.”

Cash smiled, his expression one of admiration tinged in sadness.

“She wanted you to be happy, Ro.”

Rowan nodded, throat tight as he looked into his glass.

“I still miss her, every day. Part of me worries that if things with Aelin ever got serious, I might start missing her less.”

Cash’s answering shrug was sympathetic.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“I don’t want to forget her,” Rowan said, marveling that he could admit that fear out loud.

“You won’t,” Cash assured him. “Ever. But you’re allowed to move on, brother; that’s what she wanted for you.”

There was something in his tone, an assurity and a promise, that had Rowan’s mouth going dry. He glanced up to meet Cash’s gaze.

“She told you that?”

Cash nodded once.

“The last time I saw her. She made me promise to look out for you, and to make sure you ended up with the right girl. And honestly?” He said, a smile beginning to grow on his face. “I think you might have just met her. I can’t let you mess that up by overthinking things, for Lyria’s sake as much for your and Aelin’s.”

Rowan felt his lips tugging up.

“You’re going to like her,” he said, and Cash grinned.

“Latin girl who can kick your ass in sports? I love her already.”

Rowan laughed.

“I’m going to Austin after my exam, but she’s planning on coming to LA sometime after that. If you’re free, you could fly out, I have airline miles—“

“I’d love to,” Cash interjected, clapping Ro in the back. “But I’m going to be out of commission for the next few months. I promise I’ll meet her properly soon, though. She seems cool as hell.”

Not to be put off by the diversion regarding Aelin, Rowan frowned, narrowing his eyes as he scrutinized his friend’s expression. Cash’s answering smile was cryptic and slightly wild. It was then Ro remembered what Cash had told him when he’d first gotten into town days ago.

“Fuck,” he said, running a hand through his silver hair. “I feel like such a dick, you said you had news. I totally forgot, I’m sorry.”

Cash laughed, the sound easy and unburdened.

“You just met the women you’re probably going to marry. I’ll give you a pass.”

Rowan thought to object to the notion he was going to marry Aelin after only three days together, but something told him not to.

“Well tell me now,” Rowan said instead.

His friend’s cryptic smile returned, mischief sparkling in his hazel eyes.

“The only thing worse than having too many secrets,” Cash always said. “Is having none at all.”

Ro had a feeling Cash was about to drop a big one on him right now.

“I’m moving to London.”

“Wait?” Rowan demanded. “Seriously?”

Cash grinned.

“Seriously.”

“Just for a change of pace?”

“Partly,” Cash said with a shrug. “But mostly to be a Master Sommelier.”

Now that, Rowan had not expected. He struggled to pick his jaw off the floor enough to speak.

“Like a wine expert?” He said, stunned. “I thought you didn’t like wine! You always ripped on your uncle for opening Merchant of Vino!”

Cash laughed.

“That’s because it’s a stupid name and Dev’s a hapless businessman.“

Rowan still couldn’t fully master his shock, though it was quickly being subsumed by an overwhelming pride.

“This is amazing, man,” he said, clasping Cash’s shoulder. “When did you decide to do this?”

Cash’s smile had grown slightly sheepish.

“When I first sat for the Level One Sommelier exam three years ago?”

“Three years?” Rowan repeated. “You’ve been sitting on this for three fucking years? Why didn’t you say anything? Every time I asked about your job you brushed me off!”

Cash rubbed the back of his neck.

“I didn’t want to tell you in case it—didn’t pan out.”

“Seems like it’s panning out just fine!” Rowan said with a laugh.

“It’s going alright,” Cash agreed with a laugh. “Considering I passed the theory portion of the Master Sommelier exam. I just have to complete the tasting and I’ll be one of 229 Masters Somms in the world.”

“Jesus Christ,” Rowan blurted. “That’s incredible. How does London fit into all this?”

“If I said the name Sadeghi, would that mean anything to you?”

“Persian billionaires or something?”

Cash nodded.

“The old man is from originally from Tehran, but the family has been in England for ages; they’re real estate royalty in the UK. Sadeghi put his son in charge opening a new hotel and restaurant in London, and I’m going to be the wine manager. Make the lists, relationship build with vineyards, that kind of thing. They’ve already hired a Michelin Star chef from Marrakech, so it’s...a pretty big deal. It’s also a good way to for me to grow my network while I study for the exam. I don’t want to be stuck in the restaurant business forever.”

“Cash,” Rowan said, grinning. “That’s amazing.”

Cash smiled.

“Maybe you and Aelin can come visit once I get settled,” Cash said in deflection, clearly at his limit for discussing himself. “You know, Aelin your girlfriend.”

Rowan had to laugh.

He had a girlfriend.

And—Jesus Christ—Cash was moving to England. It was almost too much good news for a single day.

“I’m happy for you,” he told his friend, giving his shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “And you deserve this. You’re going to crush it”

“I hope so,” Cash said. “The pass rate for the tasting portion of the exam is 32%.”

“You’re the smartest person I know,” Rowan said. “So that number means nothing.”

Cash grinned.

“You flirting with me, Whitethorn?”

“If you’re going to be friends with billionaires, you need to learn how to start taking compliments,” Rowan said with a chuckle.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Cash said, and Rowan could see the unsaid words shining in his friend’s hazel eyes. “Another drink?”

Cash turned to slip off the stool he’d been perched on, by Rowan caught his arm.

“Cash.”

Cash turned back, expression somewhat bemused. Rowan felt a lump beginning to form in his throat, but he pushed on regardless.

“It’ll be you, you know that right?”

“Be me?” Cash repeated, confused.

“When I get married—whoever I get married to—you’ll be my best man. I couldn’t have it any other way.”

Cash smiled, eyes sparkling. He considered this for a moment before pulling Rowan into a hug, one which Rowan gratefully accepted.

“Love you, brother.”

There were very few people Rowan considered worthy of this type of familial affection, but Cash was certainly one of them.

“I’m not drunk enough for this kind of thing,” Cash said, pulling away. “I’m going to get us another drink.”

Rowan’s phone buzzed with an incoming call just as Cash was sauntering away. He was surprised to find it was Aelin, and concern sluiced through him as he answered the call.

Before he could ask if she was okay, Aelin said, “Stupid flight attendant has been holding out on me. She waited until just now to tell me I could make calls on WiFi.”

Rowan felt amusement tugging at his lips.

“Should I be concerned that you’re calling from altitude? Nothing’s wrong, is there?”

Rowan could practically hear Aelin’s grin through the phone.

“No,” she said breezily “But I realized I never told you about the Cinnabon I had on my way to the gate. I figured I should call and tell you now lest I forget.”

“Oh yeah?” Rowan said.

He couldn’t help it; he was all-out smiling now.

“It was life-changing,” Aelin said.

Rowan glanced up to find Cash joining Fen and Lor at the pool table with a conspiratorial wink. When he mouthed ‘sorry’ and made to rise, Cash waved him off with a smile.

“In that case,” Rowan said, settling back on his stool. “Tell me everything.”

THE END

If you liked this story and want more Rowaelin, check out my Nessian fic In Vino Veritas, set in the same modern au-verse about four years later. If you want a sneak peak at how Lorcan’s romance check out the teaser for F*cking Lawyers, set within the In Vino timeline. ♥️ 

TAGLIST:  @tswaney17 @katexrenee @mightymorphingayagenda @nalgenewhore @superspiritfestival @mis-lil-red @pilesofriles @whitewashedasiangiril @http-itsrebecca @starkovsnesta @thebitchupstairs @sometimesimthatbitch @islareads @faerie-queen-fireheart @queen-of-glass @sleeping-and-books @enpointe10 @justgiu12 @thesurielships @keshavomit @stardelia @awesomelena555 @alyx801 @carbconnoisseur @ladywitchling @thewayshedreamed @annedub @cityofchelsea16 @spyofthenightcourt @empress-ofbloodshed @morrigays @theminorfallandthemajorlift @belamoonbeam @moonstoneriver77 @wesupremeginger @scrawlandspirits @garnet-29 @b00kworm @cursebreaker29 @jesstargaryenqueen @feyrethedarklady @officialasianbitch @cridhe-teine @sassyhobbits @musicmaam @januarystears @tottenhamboys20 @shyvioletcat @ifinallygavein @maybekindasortaace

[sandalaris]

Fanfic Tropes Asks: Amnesia, Past Fic, Sex Pollen, Historical AU and In Vino Veritas? 💖💖💖

Amnesia:

Probably not, no. I don’t really read amnesia fics either, they just don’t interest me enough *shrug*

That being said, very recently I was reading a book where two characters would sort of go into a mental trauma and face the memories and I remember thinking as I read it that it would be interesting if the character who’s trauma is was they were facing actually had no recollection of the time they spent together inside his memories afterwards, and how the story could’ve spun off from there. Especially considering the other person started off disliking the one who’s memories/trauma they were fighting and slowly came to understand them and develop a bond with them in part due to said memories. But that’s probably the closest I’ve ever come to thinking out an amnesia plot.

Past Fic:

Like a prequel? Or even just set before canon? They yeah, I’d probably write it. Not sure for which fandom or anything, but I’d be open to it. I probably wouldn’t do a “these two character secretly knew each other before the officially met on screen” sort of thing, unless I felt there was a strong hint to it in the show/book/movie. And I definitely wouldn’t write a “these two characters used to date before canon takes place and now they don’t” with my OTP. I like to get characters together and keep them that way :P

I wouldn’t mind doing a pre-canon AU though. I’ve thought about writing one for Community before, where things sort of veer off from canon before the show ever starts. I might still someday write it, although it’s a little dark. Mainly because a Jeff who stayed a lawyer would be an even bigger amoral asshole.

Unless you mean just sort of set a bit in the past, like toss modern day characters into the 1970′s. Then it depends on the fandom. I’d write it for FDtD for example, but not for Leverage.

Sex Pollen:

I love to read it, but I’ve never written it. I would though, if I got the inspiration for it. For just about any ship I have, I’d write something where something magic/tech/science/paranormal causes my OTP to sleep together, but I would probably have more fun diving into the aftermath. I may or may not write the actual exposure and reactions, which may or may not include the characters actually sleeping together (maybe someone else got involved and separated them until the effects wore off but not before some confessions/realizations happened, especially if only one person was really affected and the other is now needs to work out what to do with their new found knowledge/realization, or maybe I’d still with traditional and the just have sex), but I would for sure write the aftermath of “now what?”

I feel like it would play out better with some ships than others though. (These are subject to change with more thought about characterization and such)

Kastle would work really well, particularly for a longer fic: Frank would try to sweep it under the rug, see it as something that was done to them and try and destroy the people/company that made the drug/serum/whatever that caused it. Karen would want to actually take the time to talk about the emotional implications and what this means, she’s by far the more emotionally aware of the two. Frank would continue to deflect and avoid, all while referring to it as some attack inflicted upon them, which would hurt Karen to hear because even if it was by no means a good thing or something she wishes to be exposed to again, she wouldn’t say the two them sleeping together is this bad horrible no-good very bad thing either. This would go on until things got back to the status quo... almost, because Karen can’t and won’t let this go completely. She will let him retreat and hide behind his “mission” but they are going to come back to this.

SethKate would be kind of a middle ground: Depending on when it happened, Kate would probably have some kind of a freak out. She probably won’t actually want to talk about it, she doesn’t often want to talk about her own issues/trauma in the show, avoiding them or mentioning things only when comparing to other people’s. Like how she only tells Seth about her dad when pointing out that he’s not only one to have lost family in the Twister. I wouldn’t go so far as to say she’d want to avoid the subject, but she probably wouldn’t be initiating any conversations about it either. Seth wouldn’t necessarily want to have some big discussion, but depending on when it happened he would either want answers about what this means for them (particularly if they’ve been working towards something) and therefore try and bring it up, think its somehow his fault and that Kate must be mad/blame him/hate him, have is his various issues be stirred up and need to be talked down, or some combination of those. Reassurance would need to be given on both sides, but eventually they’d work through it.

Jeff/Annie would be a bad choice as sleeping together would not be enough to change the pattern they have going on. *sigh* I swear.

Bethyl would be a good one-shot choice. Daryl would silently freak out, but Beth would take charge after, which would be a good thing as she’d need to feel in control again, and Daryl would need to feel like someone he trusts is taking the reins. Beth would talk and Daryl would listen and they’d come out closer in the end.

Historical AU:

I would love to! I also don’t think I could do one justice because I feel like I’d fail to do enough/proper research. :/ I’m just not very good with history, its never been my strong suit. But i would seriously love to write one some day. There are so many ways to go with it too, too many different ways to take it, so many fandoms it would work with.

In Vino Veritas:

Maybe? Drunken confession are always fun, but I’m not sure what fandom I’d write it for. I suppose Seth, high off pain killers after a job gone wrong, saying something to Kate would be fun to explore. She knew he liked her, but Seth’s typically shows his affection over telling it. So having him muttering happily about her various aspects, mostly flattering (her hands are not that small!), and what he wants, well, it cleared up more than a few questions. Or maybe Richie, who didn’t realize that particular herb had a drunken affect on culebras, suddenly demanding to know when Kate’s gonna make an honest man out of his brother, because it’s been painful watching them, sparks a conversation between her and Seth. Or maybe I’d go a different way, and Freddie has to listen to a drunken Dakota go off about how much she hates that she can’t get justice for her dad and this culebra shit is just insane, he does realize that right? And working with them? That’s just- just, she didn’t sign up for it. And Richie! She definitely didn’t sign up for Richie and his broad chest and his stupidly hot face, and she hasn’t gotten laid in like six months-

Freddie, desperately pulling out his wallet and signaling to the bartender: OK, I think that’s enough for now.

[argentnoelle]

Quantum Leap fic recs

... mostly genfic, + any pairings - usually written, but if it’s canon/clear from the summary I won’t point it out - all stories will tend toward more plot/character focused over shipping/romance plots || check stories for ratings/warnings

All That Glitters by PippinDuck // Summary: QL & ST:TNG crossover - Sam leaps into Data. What can he possibly be there to change in the future? // very fun, episode-style, with a great Star Trek-type plotline

An Indirect Rescue by Sarah1281 // Summary: Just because Sam didn't succeed in warning his twelve-year-old sister away from a future abusive husband she'd never even met didn't mean that his actions had no effect. The night before Katie's elopement, Tom finds his sister unable to sleep and attempts to cheer her up. It only takes a little to change fate.

Johnny Got His Gun by TheMadnessofDoctorStrangelove // Summary: In a leap worse than death, Sam finds himself in the 'shoes' of maimed war veteran, Joe Bonham. Crossover with the classic novel by Dalton Trumbo. // possibly unfinished, but could be read as complete -- pastiche in the style of the novel

Looking For Nostalgia by Clair de Lune - CdL // Summary: He's missing something he can't even remember. // short, friendship-fic; Al comforts Sam

Perfect Picture by orianna-2000 // Summary: Al and Beth and their children have a special picture taken. Short and sweet. Based on the alternate ending to the series finale Mirror Image.

Stepfamily by Sarah1281 // Summary: Still, she hesitated. "Ziggy…Are you my big sister?" Sammy Jo discovers the truth of her parentage and then there's little chance of keeping it quiet. With Sam still out of contact with them, she still doesn't have a father, just another absent man to think of as one. And Donna thought that she had accepted Sam's relationships with other women but this was something else entirely.

The Other Side Of Life by Space-Time-Leapers // Summary: In this prequel, Ziggy has just come on line. A problem with cabling for the Imaging Chamber leads to issues that Al and Sam must address, but can they when they find themselves somewhat acting out of character. What the heck is going on? // When Sam and Al get into an argument over the project, Ziggy forces them to take a vacation.  - At first the story is a little hard to read, since they’re annoyed at each other the whole time, but it turns out there’s a reason and a very intriguing plot-twist. On the whole I enjoyed this story a lot, although I felt by later in the story that the plot being written needed Sam & Al as a romantic ship instead of friendship to work properly, as it had been set up, and instead there was a lot of hedging around the issue. (This despite the fact that I don’t usually ship them. *shrug*)

The Second-to-Last Leap by bcbdrums // Summary: It had started as all Leaps do. And he hated to admit it, but he had come to depend on those beginning moments, when he knew Sam still remembered him and the Project. And that someday, perhaps with a little prayer, putting right what once went wrong would bring his friend home. But this time was different. // This takes place just before Mirror Image, and warning, it’s sad.

Trudy by PippinDuck // A streamofconsciousness piece concerning 16 year old Trudy Calavicci in the mental institution, written from her POV.

Where the Pieces Fall by mgowriter // The events of one night that lead up to the infamous first meeting between Al and Sam.

Rabbit Hole by elementalv // crossover with Supernatural. Summary: Sam Beckett has been leaping through time for longer than even he knows, but he's pretty sure he's never leapt into a life quite like this one. // Set after QL & during SPN season 6

Leap For Liberty by swordznsorcery // Jon Pearce - September 12th, 1960. Sam Leaps into a prison. // A nice episode-style fic

Not in the starts to hold our destiny by Blackbird Song // Summary: Sam leaps home, but things can't go back to the way they were before. // sweet, friendship fic. Short.

Beast of a Leap by madderasahatter // Summary: Sam leaps into a Vet's surgery, but he has more than the animals to save.

Quantum Chef by Legion // Summary: Okay, the story only takes place on the set of Top Chef, but since there are cameo appearances by the series Hosts, I guess it has to be considered a crossover. Sam and Al both make interesting discoveries about how Sam's Leaps have changed since he began Leaping as himself. S/A, NC17 // I liked how it kept to the canon, Sam never returned home, (while also making him able to return home) and for being (one of?) the only stories I can recall to deal with how Sam would go about Leaping "as himself" in a way I really liked and thought was both plausible and surprising.

The Other and the Observer by BJackson // [continuing series] An Alternate version of Sam and Al working for the evil leapers...

From The Case Files of Dr. Samuel Beckett - San Fransisco, California - April 4, 1939 by kyburg // Crossover with the Sherlock Holmes Mary Russell novels. Summary: Leaping within Admiral Albert Calavicci's lifetime instead of Dr. Samuel Beckett's proves to be interesting, frightening and just plain astounding at times. Like the one where Al leapt into the wife of Sherlock Holmes at the World's Fair in San Francisco, just before the start of World War II. And neither of them could recall why they were there - but to be fair, Sherlock was in his eighties at that point. And Mary was under the influence of a swiss-cheesed memory. // Short, quietly beautiful, and the writing is very fun.

I Owe My Soul To the USO by kyburg // Summary: This little soiree into the Twilight Zone runs along the premise of "what if" - the what if being "What if Sam and Al hadn't changed places at the end of "The Leap Back" - what then? What would it be like if Al was leaping, and Sam could only stand back and watch...? // unfinished, but great and fun, with a perfect Al first-person POV

Never Fully Repay by Azar // Summary: She'd been looking forward to finally meeting the young genius that Al wouldn't stop raving about. She never expected to recognize him. // Or, the one where Beth meets Sam for the first time again.

And, Betty, When You Call Me... by radondoran // Summary: When Sam gets hung up on the things he's forgotten, Al points out something he didn't know he'd remembered. // short, happy

Remembering the Future by paranoidangel // Summary: Al's seen the Waiting Room before. // shortfic

A Very Enjoyable Game by radondoran // Summary: Gooshie and Ziggy play chess. // another short & happy piece :)

King Me by dana-kujan // Summary: Sam and Al disagree on the best course of action to resolve a leap. // short, fun banter, & a QL-style reveal.

Little, White by grey // Summary: While Sam was Leaping, Al only told him the whole truth three times. // this is brutal - don’t read for a happy ending

Every Man Has A Price by TW Lewis // Al is bribed into selling classified files. // (background Sam/Al) nice mystery

Confessional by Sarah Mc // Summary: Al’s broken every promise he ever made to Sam Beckett. // (Sam/Al), angst. 

A Time For Us by Kylara Ingress // Summary: During a rough leap for Al, he is forced to remember his past with Sam - and is reminded by an unlikely source as to why Sam has forgotten it. (missing scene/prequel/sequel to "It's a Wonderful Leap") // (past Sam/Al)

Two Leapers and a Baby by BJackson // Summary: Al joins Sam in an unusual leap as his pregnant wife. And if they don't fix things, both of them will disappear. // another simo-leap, episode-style

Monsters and Angels by BJackson // Summary: A storm on Halloween sends Al once again on a leap with Sam, a leap involving werewolves, ghosts, and vampires. Sam isn't convinced any of it is real, but both he and Al are a little different this leap. // totally fun :)

The Mistakes Our Fathers Made by Pythia // Summary: Sometimes I sit and unravel quantum equations and wonder ... // (Sammy Jo)

Distorted Reflection by Pythia // Summary: She asked me to explain, and I couldn't, recollection of history now shattering the memories of what it had once been. Things I had done, people I had been, lives that I had changed ... I was not the Samuel Beckett who had stepped into the Accelerator. It wasn't even the same Accelerator. I had broken my own rules, changed my own past, affected myself, and I could not hold on to the man I had been, nor properly accept the one I had become ... // Best Mirror-Image-compliant fix-it fic ever.

His Own Face by SummerFic // "Sometimes Al pretends that the Sam in the mirror is his Sam." - sweet, slight angst, friendship fic. Short

Intoxicating by Jon Colbert // Summary: Al misses Beth. He turns to Sam for comfort. [Pre-leaping] // (Sam/Al, but not really in a good way.) Angst.

Fundamentals by BJackson // Summary: When a retrieval attempt goes wrong, Sam's memories start slipping away during a leap. // episode-style

The Last Measure of Devotion by Sue Walker // Summary: Ziggy is dying and Sam is losing it, so Al takes desperate measures to effect retrieval, which jeopardize his career and his relationships, and even his friendship with Sam. // AU after Mirror Image. - This is the epic QL Sam/Al novel you may have heard of. Probably the longest QL fic I’ve ever read, and it’s totally worth it. Split into part 1 and part 2, I personally enjoy part one better because of the really devastating, and awesome, Al pov storyline during the “present timeline” of PQL. - long, complex, plotty, emotionally fraught, I would recommend this even if you don’t ship Sam/Al.

Star Bright by Ankh // Summary: Al and Sam think about memories and what they mean. // Or: Al & his star pin. friendship, slight angst, no resolution.

Affinity by Illya // Summary: When Sam gets a chance to do some soul searching, Al must come to terms with his friend's identity. // (Sam/OMC)

In Vino Veritas by dramatic owl // Al looks after Donna.

Beginning(s), Middle(s), End(s) by DesireeArmfeldt // Summary: "Al didn’t see you born, but he saw you conceived.  That’s what he tells you sometimes." // Sammy Jo pov; timeline-shifty-stuff

Big Shot by Janet_Coleman_Sides // Al gets drunk at a party thrown in his honor, and says a few surprising things he can't remember. Ziggy is only too happy to give him an instant replay.

Don’t Panic by Janet Coleman Sides // A silly romp in which Ziggy decides to calculate the meaning of Life, the Universe and Everything, which (along with some spilled cappuccino) results in improbabilities like Sam leaping into Harry Kim, Al's series of costume (and occasional personality... and other) changes, and a Bang-Up Happy Ending. // crossover with Star Trek: Voyager & The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Crack.

[ao3feed-saintseiya]

In Vino Veritas

AO3: http://ift.tt/2jCGnkS

by Alaiya

Il y a ce que Masque de Mort contrôle et ce qui lui échappe. Et il y a ce que Shura ne comprend pas mais qu'il accepte.

Words: 3279, Chapters: 1/1, Language: Français

Series: Part 23 of De Cancer en Capricorne : amis et amants

Fandoms: Saint Seiya

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen, M/M

Characters: Cancer Deathmask, Capricorn Shura

Additional Tags: UDC!verse, Prequel, Friendship, Misunderstandings, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Psychological Trauma, Community: 31_jours

AO3: http://ift.tt/2jCGnkS

[featherymalignancy]

PART ONE — The Eyes of Texas: A Rowaelin Origin Story 🏐 🍺 ❤️

Long before Cash and Nesta, there was Rowan and Aelin.

Rowan Whitethorn—a Navel academy graduate and recently discharged second lieutenant from the United States Navy—takes a break from studying of the police academy exam in Los Angeles to fly back to his native Hawaii and compete in a twos volleyball tournament with his ex, one of the best sand players on the amateur circuit.

Beyond Remy’s devious machinations to win Rowan back, the biggest impediment to victory is the so-called Ashryver twins, a pair of cousins from Miami with a reputation of their own. Rowan can’t help but admire the gorgeous and sharp-tongued Aelin Galathynius, who’s more than ready to give Remy a run for her money—both on the court and in the race for Rowan’s affection.

This takes place in the same AU-verse as my Nessian story In Vino Veritas, about four years before. 

This is a two-part story, you can jump to Part Two here. ♥️ 

The Eyes of Texas, Part ONE

No matter how many times he made the journey, Rowan Whitethorn always found a wonder in returning home. He’d been glued to the window on the plane’s final descent into Maui three days ago, drinking in the sight of the Kahului Bay’s glittering waters and the distant peaks of Haleakalā rising up like silent guardians in the distance. It had only been six months since he’d last been home, but it still made his heart race; he doubted it would ever fail to take his breath away.

It had only gotten better when he’d landed and found not just Cash and Fen waiting for him, but Lorcan as well. The self-proclaimed success story of the friend group, Lor had gotten a full-ride to MIT and graduated with a 4.0 before being recruited to some tech giant in the Silicon Valley. It didn’t matter how times Rowan tried to point out that he himself had needed a recommendation from a US Senator to get into the Naval Academy; Lor would simply start rattling off college rankings and acceptance rates until Rowan conceded defeat just to shut him up. 

Even though they lived down the California coast from one another, Rowan rarely got to see Lor. So far as any of them could tell, Lorcan’s whole life was his job, and despite his obscene salary, he rarely took days off, let alone vacations. So for him to come to see Rowan play in the tournament--Ro didn’t think he needed to tell his friend what it meant to him. Not that it would have mattered if he had; the only thing Lor wasn’t good at was talking about his feelings. A likely culprit for why he didn’t have a girlfriend, considering their friend Essar had once dubbed him “the hottest man on all eight islands”. 

From the airport they’d driven across the island in Cash’s beater pick-up, Rowan in the cab and Lor and Fen riding in back. It had reminded Rowan of old times, of being 18 and carefree. It reminded him of life before his mom had died, before the Academy and his naval service, before Lyria and the cancer and all the heartache that had come after. 

Sitting in the truck, the radio blasting and Cash’ squawking tunelessly along with it, Rowan had felt more himself than he had in months. The stress of studying for the detective’s exam had been wearing on him more than he’d realized, and in that moment it had struck him how badly he’d needed this distraction. A glance at Cash had told him his friend was thinking the same thing.

Cash had been Rowan’s best friend since before he could honestly remember, and despite Lor’s obnoxious declarations to the contrary, Cash was hands-down the smartest person Rowan knew. It had come as a surprise, then, when they’d all started growing up and talking about college and Cash had shown no interest. Neither had Fen, but that Ro had expected. The free spirit of the lot, he seemed perfectly content to stay at home and work odd jobs so long as he could still surf every day. But Cash...he’d always seemed a little lost to Ro. Just a late bloomer, his mother had always insisted. Some of the best people take the longest to develop. Still, Rowan had assumed that now that they were in their mid-twenties, Cash would have figured it out. As far as he knew, though, Cash was still working at the same stuffy restaurant he’d worked at when they were teenagers, though he’d thankfully graduated from a dishwasher to a server and an occasional bartender.

 As if he’d known what Ro had been thinking, Cash turned to grin at him, a secret smile that traditionally had spelled trouble, getting grounded, and occasionally running from the police.

“I have some news,” he’d said, eyes twinkling. “Remind me to tell you later.”

Ro had meant to ask the minute they’d gotten back to the house, but suddenly there was a shot in his hand and everything else had faded away. They’d partied all night and well into the next day, a decision he’d regretted when they’d all piled onto the ferry to Waikiki for the tournament. Thankfully they’d still had half a day to recover at the hotel before the tournament began, though the trip had gotten decidedly less restful when they’d arrived to find Remy waiting for them, already pissed off. 

According to his friends, Remelle St. James was Rowan’s greatest sin. They’d dated on-and-off through high school in what Cash had generously described as a slow-burning dumpster fire, but had lost touch after Ro had left for the Naval Academy and Remy accepted a scholarship to play volleyball at UC Irvine. It was only after Lyria’s diagnosis, and—a devastatingly short six months later—her death that Rowan and Remelle reconnected. For all her other faults, Remy had also lost a sister to cancer young, and she’d been there to counsel Rowan through the worst of his grief.

 Her romantic pursuit of him the following year was admittedly less admirable, and Rowan had been quick to lessen his connection to her when it became clear what she wanted from him.  Still, that had been almost a year ago, and when she’d called to suggest he come to Hawaii and play in this invitational with her, it had been an offer he couldn’t refuse. Remy was one of the best amateur players on the circuit, having just missed the opportunity to play professionally on the AVP tour the previous year. It was why she’d called, she claimed. This tournament was a great way to get exposure, and mixed doubles was a much higher profile division than that of female twos.His friends, on the other hand, had immediately called bullshit.

“As much as I want to see you,” Fen had said when Rowan had first called with her proposal. “She’s playing you, brother. No offense, but there are tons of guys here she could recruit if she wanted. She asked you because, once again, she’s trying to dig her claws in.”

“Hate to agree,” Cash had chimed in. “But he’s totally right. She just wants in your board shorts.”

“Are you saying you don’t think I’m good enough to win?” Rowan had countered.

He could picture Cash rolling his eyes from 2,500 miles away.

“Of all the things we just said, how was that your takeaway?”“I never get to play anymore,” Rowan had admitted. “And I miss it. I think I’m just going to do it.”

“In that case, can’t wait to see you, brother.”

And that had been that. It had seemed a great idea up until he’d spotted Remy glowering at him in the lobby yesterday, and now, in the midst of the fourth set of the semifinal match, he was wondering if his friends hadn’t been right.

Game Point, he reminded himself. Just one more point and they’d be in the finals. Just one more point and he could take a blessed break from Remy and all her castigations.He stretched a hand behind him as Remy stepped back to serve, flashing two fingers to signal he would be blocking cross. He could hear her huff of disapproval even with his back to her. They’d been having problems with their coverage all game, and though Rowan could have very reasonably argued it was because of Remy’s defense, she’d blamed his position on the block.

“What’s the point of being a giant,” she’d snarled after the last point they’d lost. “If you can’t shut a hitter down at the net?”

“I’m trying to force the spot you keep saying you want,” he’d snapped back. “Maybe after this game you might want to look into a digging clinic.”

He heard the snap as the ball was served, tracking his opponents through the net as they received. It was a less than stellar pass from the guy, and though the set his teammate gave him was decent, Ro could see the swing was going to be exactly where he wanted it.

He lingered to the left until the last moment, feigning a block that would force the hit line. He struck just as the hitter began to make contact, taking a quick step to the right before exploding up. Rowan could feel in the way his muscles uncoiled that it had been a perfect jump, and he turned his face away to avoid a broken nose as his hands made contact with the ball. He could tell from the sound alone how dominating a block it had been, and he wasn’t surprised as he watched the ball fall into the sand on the opposite court, it’s angle so punishing there had been no chance for a defense.

The gathering crowd erupted in cheers, and Rowan turned to Remy in celebration, only to find her lips pursed.

“Nice block. I hope this means you’re going to actually listen to me next match.”

Too annoyed to respond to that, Rowan turned to shake hands with the opposing team before stalking past Remy to where his friends were lounging. Unsurprisingly, she was right on his heels, pushing the water bottle he’d about to take a sip from away and scowling at him.“I told you that you needed to be more aggressive on the block,” she said. “Would it honestly kill you to admit I’m right?” “Every block can’t be a roof, Rem! You need to be quicker at reading the coverage or we are going to lose in the finals.”

Remy crossed her arms. 

“You’re just mad because you don’t have the stamina to keep jumping like that.”

“Don’t start with me about stamina,” Rowan said. “For someone who is hoping to get on the tour, you’re lagging on defense.”

Rowan was unsurprised when she reached back and slapped him in the face, though the blow had admittedly come fast enough that he hadn’t had time to avoid it.

“You’re an ass,” Remy snarled, tears in her eyes.

Once, that might have been enough to get him to soften his tone. After ten years of dealing with her gaslighting, he was now sure that they were manufactured. 

“Do not do that again,” he said in a quiet voice. At this more tears welled, and she reached up to touch his face, her small palms resting on his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Ro,” she said, eyes flicking briefly to his lips. “I’m just--there’s a lot riding on this for me.”

“Our next match is in twenty minutes,” Rowan said, peeling her hands off of him. “Get some water and walk it off.”

She seemed put out at the dismissal, but she must have known she had little recourse to argue after slapping him, so she simply nodded and turned away, giving his friends a hateful look for good measure before stalking off. Fen watched her go with unveiled distaste before turning to Rowan and shaking his head. 

“Dude, I know I’m gay, but I will never understand what you see in that girl. She straight sucks.”

Cash bubbled his lips in agreement.

“There’s nothing to see,” Lor said. “She’s a fucking nightmare.”

“Here, here,” Cash said, and Rowan rolled his eyes.“We’ve been playing together forever,” he protested. “And Remy knows we aren’t...seeing each other anymore.”

“Does she?” Lor drawled. “Just because you’re not banging her right now doesn’t mean she’s done with you, Whitethorn. Remelle St. James is not a girl you can just walk away from.”

“We’re twos partners, not soulmates,” Ro said. “And if playing with Remy means winning this tournament, I don’t really care what you jackasses think of it, or of her.”

“The sets cannot be worth it,” Lorcan drawled, sounding bored.

“She’s the best amateur female player in this tournament,” Rowan snapped back.

“Please,” Fen said. “She’s barely in the top five.”

“And who’s number one, then?”

Fen grinned, dark eyes fiendish.

“You haven’t heard? There’s a chick here from the University of Texas, and apparently she’s—”

“Holy shit,” Cash interrupted, eyes skating over Rowan’s shoulder. “Who is that?”

Rowan turned in time to watch the hottest woman he’d ever seen saunter towards them. She was taller than average—easily exceeding six feet—and corded with a sleek musculature that would have heralded her as a volleyball player even if they weren’t at a tournament. Her gorgeously tanned legs went on for an eternity, and he felt his mouth go dry at seeing the minuscule bikini bottoms she wore, the burnt orange Lycra hugging a toned ass that told him she probably had a damn good vertical. Her long blond hair was pulled into a high ponytail and braided in the popular style, and when she turned to smirk at him in a flash of pearly teeth and dazzling blue eyes, he felt a little weak.

“Goddamn,” Cash said, interrupting Rowan’s reverie. “She is fucking gorgeous.”

“That’s her,” Fen said. “From UT. Aelin Galathynius. Ro, I hope you and Remy can pull it together for this match. Otherwise this girl is gonna fuck you up.”

They all watched as she trotted onto the court, bending over in a stretch Rowan was afraid was going to make his board shorts too tight.

“God lord, she is perfect,” Cash said, tilting his head slightly to better admire her well-formed assets.Rowan felt a prickle of irritation at his friend's appraisal, but before he could address it, or—more realistically—dismiss it, Lor gave an unimpressed snort.

“She’s too tall.”

“I don’t understand how a guy pushing seven feet can have a maximum height restriction for the women he dates,” Fen said.

Lor only shrugged with a smirk, but Rowan was barely listening. He felt another twinge of displeasure zip down his spine as he watched a muscular blonde frat star stride onto the court towards the Galathynius girl, who beamed at seeing him.“That her boyfriend?” He asked, trying not to sound overly put-out by the idea.

 “Cousin, I think,” Lor said, expression gloriously bored. “Aedion Ashryver. I played him in a tournament in Miami last year. He’s marginally above average.”

“High praise, coming from you,” Fen said, earning only an eye roll in response.They watched as Ashryver took several exploratory swings, Aelin working out her wrists as he did. Rowan admired her flawless form as she gave her cousin a tight set and he crushed the ball into a sand on a punishing downward trajectory.

“Nice hands,” Cash said, eyes alight with appreciation as she shot Aedion a quick set to a similarly successful result.

“I can block him,” Rowan said, trying to read Aedion’s form for flaws. “He’s swinging hard, but he’s hit that same spot every time.”

“That’s not going to be enough on its own,” Lor said dryly. “Your best bet is to force Galynthius to receive first then shut her down on the block. I bet her swing is weak.”

“That opinion is completely baseless,” Cash said. “You have no idea what her swing is like.”

“I know that cocky assholes are never as good as they are obnoxious,” Lorcan retorted, gesturing to the Galythinius girl again.She’d seemed to have taken note of their attention, hands on her hips as surveyed Rowan from head to toe. Something about the way she looked at him—her tongue tucked almost suggestively into her cheek—had pleasant goosebumps breaking out on his arms.

Given her brazen assessment, Rowan felt justified in studying her as well, trying to school his expression into that of a player sizing up an opponent for weaknesses. In reality, he was just admiring her.The sports bra she wore did nothing to minimize her gorgeously firm tits, and her stomach was an alluring tapestry of muscle, the smooth bronze skin unblemished save for the corner of a tattoo which peaked out from the top of her bikini bottoms. From it’s color and shape, Rowan thought it might be a flag, though he couldn’t see enough of it to tell which country. Before he could stop himself, Rowan imagined peeling the offending garment off her and getting a better look. Rowan tried to get his mind right as Aelin Galynthius gave him a smouldering grin and turned away, but he was still so caught up in her that he flinched when he felt Remy’s fingers trailing down his back.

“You ready, babe? Let’s do this.”Rowan definitely debated telling her not to call him that, but not wanting to reignite the tension when they were so close to winning he simply nodded and headed towards the court to warm up as well. 

“Good luck, champ,” Fen said. “Make sure you find out if she’s single for Cash.”

Rowan flipped him off and jogged onto the court, trying to ignore the way Aelin Galynthius’s eyes raked him appreciatively as he passed her.

Still relatively loose from the previous match, Rowan sped through warm-ups, not wanting to give the Ashryvver cousins too much insight into his skill level. When they were done, the tournament organizer came over to congratulate the four of them on their place in the finals before briefly running through the rules.

“There will be a line judge to settle any disputes, but you’re mostly expected to police yourself. We’re all adults here, so I expect everyone to behave like it.”

At this the Ashryvver cousins exchanged a mirthful look that failed to go unnoticed by any of the assembled. Rowan could feel Remy bristling beside him. She only grew more rigid when Aelin let her dazzling blue eyes slide to Rowan and she winked. 

“It’s best of five this match, first to twenty-five, win by two, cap at 30. Switch on hard sevens. Any questions?”

“I have one,” Aedion said, a bronzed grin stretching wide enough to reveal dimples in his cheeks. “When we win, am I going to get lei-ed?”

Rowan rolled his eyes, fighting down a searing stab of annoyance. Ethnically, his family may not have been kānaka maoli, but Rowan had lived in Hawaii his entire life, and the culture was important to him. Why wasn’t he surprised that this haole douchebag had just gone for the most tired pun in existence?

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” he told Ashryvver. “The losers don’t get shit.”

At this, Galathynius laughed, the sound low and musical.“I love a man who knows how to dream big.”

“Shall we?” The coordinator cut in, his gaze flitting between Aelin and Remy, who Rowan presumed was scowling.

They nodded and he flipped a coin, which Rowan called in the air.

“Heads.”The shaggy-haired coordinator extended his arm to show them the gleaming head of Sacagawea on the gold dollar coin.

“We’ll serve,” Rowan said, forcing himself to shake Aedion Ashryvver’s hand as he did.

Enough of this bullshit, he was ready to beat this punk into the dusk. He was also ready to put some distance between himself and Aelin Galathynius before her beauty robbed him of any good sense. Together or no, Remy would have his balls on the grill if he openly flirted with someone else in front of her, and it was a complication he couldn’t afford this close to victory.

It was easier said than done when Aelin slid her hand into his, squeezing in a way that felt oddly suggestive. However, it only lasted a second before she was turning on her heel and strutting to her side of the court.

“Good luck,” she said over her shoulder, brushing the long tail of her braid down her back. “You’re going to need it.”

Remy growled something that sounded suspiciously like “bitch” as she took her place behind the serving line. Rowan gave her what he hoped was an encouraging nod as he made his way towards the net, hand stretched behind him to give Remy the block signal.

Aelin Galathynius grinned at him through the net, blue eyes glittering before she slid on a pair of sunglasses.

“So,” she said as Remy continued to prepare. “What’s your name, gorgeous?”

There was a pleasant cadence to her voice when she spoke, the trace of an accent he couldn’t quite place.

“Trying to get in my head?” he shot back, willing himself not to fall for her tantalizing games.

Aelin gave a sultry laugh.

“More like your pants.”

At this he heard the snap of the ball being served, and he swore as he watched it sail into the net. It wasn’t like Remy to make service errors, but the dirty look she gave him as he retreated to receive Aedion’s serve told him she considered it his fault.

“Are you done flirting,” she hissed as he passed her. “Can we focus on winning now?”

Rowan longed to snap back a retort that he hadn’t been flirting and she was the one who seemed to be lacking focus, but by this time Aedion was behind the line, preparing to serve. Rowan watched the toss and adjusted his position the minute Aedion made contact, easily receiving the ball. He called for a hit outside, but Remy’s set drew him into the interior of the court instead, almost as if she were trying to pull him away from Aelin.

Adjusting his position, Rowan swung. It was Aelin who received the dig and Rowan quickly retreated along the net, ready to stuff her on the block. He was in the perfect position to cut off the diagonal hitting lane, leaving her to either tap it over—an easy receive for him—or shoot line. Rowan thought of what Lorcan had said about her weak swing as she approached, and part of him hoped she would attempt a cross so he could show her how it was done.

He crouched, muscles burning in anticipation to spring up and stuff the ball right back in Aelin Galathynius’s smug face.

Except, he didn’t.

Aelin exploded into the air as the ball reached her, her vertical impreeven given her height. In a flick of her wrist, she’d tattooed the ball right down the undefended right line. Remy made a dive for it, but Rowan could tell from the minute Aelin had hit it that it was a point.

It was—she was—

Rowan shook his head, slightly dazed. Whatever skill Rowan had expected from her, she’d just blown right past it. She was phenomenal.And what was more, she knew it. When Rowan had finally gathered his wits enough to glance at her, it was to find her grinning back.

“Welcome to the majors, Big Boy,” she purred, and Rowan couldn’t decide if he wanted to kiss her or throttle her as he retreated back to his receive position.

Ashryvvers: 1 Remy & Ro: 0.

Rowan’s warring aggravation and admiration raged on all through the first set, which he and Remy lost...badly.He tried to ignore his friends’ jeers as he retreated to hydrate before the second set began, trying to analyze Aelin’s game for flaws.The problem was, there were none, at least that he could see.

“So what’s she like?” Fen asked as Rowan took another sip of gatorade. “Seems like you two were really hitting it off out there.”

“Annoying,” Ro replied. “She’s got Remy all riled up.”

Remy had refused to speak to Rowan after the set, and she was currently standing alone in the middle of the court, glaring daggers at the Ashyrvver cousins.

“Like I said,” Lor said in a dry voice. “That she-demon has plans for you. She doesn’t like that Galathynius is moving in on what she sees as her turf.”

“What are you even talking about ‘turf’?”

“I think he means your dick, man,” Cash added, grinning when Rowan turned to glower.

“I do,” Lor said. 

“I’m not sleeping with either of them,” Rowan said, trying to reassure himself. 

“Sure you aren’t,” Fen said, shooting Lorcan and Cash a conspiratorial wink. “Do you mind if I quote you on that in my best man’s speech? Aelin seems like a girl who appreciates irony.”

“You aren’t going to be his best man,” Cash said. “Obviously it’s going to be me.”

“Ro can’t choose a best man who's already slobbered over his bride,” Lor pointed out. “So it has to be me.”

“It will be none of you,” Rowan said. “Because I would never marry a girl like that.”

Cash gave a bemused laugh.“Like what, gorgeous?”

“Athletic?” Fen added.

“Sharp-tongued?”

“Talented?”

Rowan growled.

“Remind me why I bother with any of you,” he said, tossing his empty bottle to Cash before jogging on the court.

One good thing about his friends’ teasing: it had fired him up. Even with Remy obviously still mad at him, he dominated in the second set, and the third. Between both Ashryvvers’ ability to jump and play defense, he never managed a clean kill—the kind he normally wracked up by the dozens against other, lesser opponents. Still, it was enough.

Unfortunately, Aelin continued to make comments and give him sly looks even as the score turned against her, and Rowan could feel it wearing on Remy. By the fourth set, Remy was visibly flustered, the sizable lead Rowan had given them late in the game shrinking as Remy continued to make useless mistakes.Rowan fought not the swear on game point as Remy went against Aelin on the block and was smoked.

“Lucky shot,” Remy said as she was forced to shake Aelin’s hand to signal the end of the set.  Aelin flashed Remy a taunting smirk that Rowan could tell meant trouble, and he debated the merits of interfering just as Aelin said, “There was nothing lucky about that, and we both know it. Please don’t embarrass yourself.”

“You think you’re better than me?” Remy demanded.

Aelin only laughed.

“No,” she said.

 Rowan may have relaxed at hearing that, but before he could Aelin added, “I know I’m better than you.”

Remy turned, lip curling up.

“Not what the scoresheet says.”

Aelin pushed the sport sunglasses she was wearing on top of her head, presumably so Remy could see her roll those sparkling azure eyes, ringed at the iris with pure gold.

“I think we all know why the score looks like it does,” Aelin shot back, pausing to give Rowan a bone-melting smile. 

Honestly, there was so much sexual charisma in it that he had to actively fight his body’s natural reaction. His brain might not have been a fan of Aelin Galathynius, but his cock sure was.

Remy jammed her hands onto her hips, the rage in her eyes cold enough to burn as she stared Aelin down. Rowan, she ignored.

“I don’t need him,” she snapped. 

Aelin smirk went slightly wicked. 

“Good, then you won’t mind when I take him home later and give him the ride of his life. After my cousin and I bury you in this match and win the tournament, that is.”

Aelin flashed her pearly teeth in a razored smile, letting it rake over Remy before falling on Rowan. He should have been insulted by her objectification, but in reality it just turned up the tension that had been simmering between them since the match had begun.

Remy’s answering laugh was cold, and Rowan braced for impact. Despite her bravura, he doubted the Galathynius girl understood what she was starting. Remy could be downright cruel when provoked, and the gleam in her eye told him she was preparing to go from the jugular.

“As if he’d be interested in a flat-chest, loud-mouthed cunt like you.”

At this Aedion growled, the first serious emotion Rowan had seen him display all day.

“Hey,” he snapped. “Watch your mouth.”

“That’s enough, Rem,” Rowan cut in. “We didn’t come here to talk trash.”

Remy turned, sneering.

“She started it.”

“That can’t honestly be the retort you’re going with,” Aelin said, crossing her arms with a smirk. “I expected better from you, short stack.”

At 5’9, Remy was above-average height for a woman, but compared to Aelin’s towering frame she looked positively impish, a fact Rowan knew probably filled her with rage. She wasn’t used to being looked down on the court, either physically or metaphorically.

Rowan caught her around the waist a second before she lunged, causing Aelin to laugh.

“You’re a bitch,” Remy snapped.

“I’ve been called worse by better,” Aelin said, tossing the ball to Remy with no small amount of force. “Better luck next time.”

Remy let out a small grunt as the ball knocked some of the wind out of her, but she seemed determined not to give Aelin any more than that. Tossing the ball to the ground, she made a show of storming off. 

At this Aelin turned to her cousin, cocking her head back in Remy’s direction.

“Voy a destruirla.”

Aedion laughed and gave a longer response in the same language, and Rowan found his eyes trailing down to Aelin’s tattoo again. At this close distance he could clearly see the white star set into a red triangle, inverted by the position of the tattoo.

The Cuban flag.

Good god, and he thought she’d been distracting before. Knowing that she spoke Spanish…

When he glanced up it was to find Aelin grinning.

“Don’t look so surprised,” she said, running the column of her braid through her fist in a way that had him inevitably imagining her wrapping her hands around something else. “They don’t make gringas this gorgeous.”

“Is this your strategy?” Rowan shot back, desperate to find his footing with her. “Work my partner into a frenzy so we’ll lose?”

Aelin laughed, though her gaze had chilled somewhat.

“I don’t need tricks to beat you, handsome. I think I’ve already proven that.”

“At yet that match is still all tied up, two sets a piece.”Aelin and Aedion exchanged a dangerous smile.

“Maybe I just wanted to prolong the match so I could spend more time with you,” she said. “Clearly I shouldn’t have bothered. Try not to be too embarrassed by what comes next, mi amor. It’s going to get ugly.”

“I can handle it,” Rowan shot back before adding, “And you.”

Far from seeming unnerved, Aelin preened a bit at that, clearly pleased by the challenge.

“Prove it, big boy,” she said, hands on her hips as she squared up to him.

He took a step in her direction, standing toe-to-toe with her now even with the net still between them. She may have been tall for a female, but at 6’6 he still had to tilt his chin down slightly to meet her eye.

 “I intend to,” he said. “Repeatedly.”

She bit her lip at this, the first blush he’d seen burnishing her beautiful bronze skin.

“Basta, Aelin,” Aedion called, cocking his head. “Dale.”

“Good luck, Hulk Smash,” Aelin told Rowan, turning on her heel towards her cousin. 

Rowan couldn't’ find the good sense to move his feet as she sauntered off to join her cousin, the two of them bantering back and forth in rapid Spanish. Cash was going to die when he found out Aelin was Cuban.

 Half-Brazilian himself Cash worshipped Latin women, and for the most part, they—like most women—worshipped him right back.

Ro tried not to let the idea of Cash and Aelin hitting it off bother him as he continued to watch the Ashryvver cousins. Perhaps Aelin would be immune to Cash’s easy charm, though Rowan had to admit it was unlikely. Unlike Rowan, who often came off dour despite his best efforts, Cash was engaging and almost impossible to dislike. More likely than not, Aelin Galathynius would take one look at that million-watt smile and enviable head of dark hair and forget she’d even met Rowan.

The thought was surprisingly irritating, and Ro forced himself to put it aside as the line judge called for the final match to begin. He glanced around in time to see Remy striding back onto the court, her expression more neutral than when she’d stormed off.

“Ready?” he asked simply.Her eyes blazed with a determination she’d lacked since the Ashryvver cousins had gotten in her head.

“Absolutely,” she said. “Let’s end this.”

Something in her bearing had changed, and Ro felt adrenaline surging through him.

This was the player who’d dominated in the matches leading up to this one; this was the teammate who was going to help him shut the Ashryvver’s down once and for all.

They lost the initial coin flip and the Ashryvvers elected to serve, Aelin blowing him a kiss as she stepped behind the line. Rowan ignored her.He had bigger fish to fry.

She had a punishing jump serve that stung Ro’s arms as he received, but he still managed a decent pass, and the set Remy gave him was damn near perfect. Aedion and Aelin shifted as the former dropped back for coverage and the latter  prepared for the block. She’d yet to stuff Rowan, but he couldn’t deny she had hops enough to cause him real problems if he wasn’t careful.Still, the set had drawn Aelin farther into the court than he could tell she liked, leaving the line undefended. Rowan intentionally approached at an angle as if he meant to swing cross before changing his body position last minute and aiming line.

Aelin jumped, but her effort was futile. Her left hand just missed the ball, which sailed down the line and struck deep.Rowan’s first kill of the entire match.He couldn’t help a glance down at Aelin as he smiled.

“Welcome to the big leagues, Galathynius.”

Aelin only rolled her eyes, but she offered no retort as she retreated to Aedion, switching to Spanish presumably to discuss strategy.

With Remy more in the game, she and Ro got out to an early lead, a fact that he could tell filled Aelin with fiery displeasure. As hard as he was swinging, Rowan had finally figured out Aedion’s swing, and though Aelin tried to move him around the court with her sets to avoid Rowan’s block, they were finding only middling success.

Rowan didn’t permit himself to think too much about it as they steadily racked up points, but when he looked up to find the score was 24 - 18, his pulse sped up. 

It was match point. 

One more point, he told himself. One more point and he and Remy would have won the whole damn thing. It was so close he could almost taste it.Still, as he watched Aelin take note of the same thing, her blue eyes flashing, he knew it wouldn’t be as easy as all that. Aedion finally managed a kill the next point, and when Aelin stepped back to serve, everything in her posture signaled danger ahead.

Rowan watched the ball spin as she tossed it in the air, timing her jump to perfection. Remy adjusted to defend the line, but the ball unexpectedly hit the top of the net instead, the force of the blow pushing the ball over onto their court. Remy dove for it but it was no use; it was in the sand even before he hit the ground.

24 - 20.

Aelin gave a self-satisfied smirk as Remy tossed the ball back to her.

“Dare you to do that again,” she snapped, and Aelin’s smile only widened.

Tossing the ball, she did just that. The ball hit the tape and fell in the same spot, proving it wasn’t a lucky shot. She’d clearly practiced utilizing the net, and now it had cost them back-to-back aces.

24 - 21.

Remy gave a small scream of frustration as she went down hard for a second time, brushing sand out of her hair and off her face as she glared at a preening Aelin. She readjusted closer to the net lest Aelin try the tricks third time, her body poised to spring. Except Aelin didn’t try it a third time. She aimed for the back corner instead, tattooing the ball into the space Remy had just abandoned.

“Goddamnit!” Remy snarled, storming towards Rowan. “Switch me.”

24 - 22.

Repositioning again, Rowan was blessedly able to receive her fourth serve, Remy’s set putting him tight on the net. He’d expected Aedion to cover him but in a flash Aelin was there instead, exploding upwards just as he made contact.He heard the snap of the ball against skin, and only had time to cast a hand out blindly as the ball came back onto his side. Unfortunately, it wasn’t high enough for Remy to get to.

Aelin beamed as Rowan turned to gawk at her. It was rare at his height and speed that he got stuffed on the block. Even Aedion, who was close to his height, hadn’t managed it.

24 - 23.

“I told you it was going to get ugly,” Aelin purred. “I don’t make idle promises.”

“You’re still behind,” Rowan said, but Aelin only smiled.

“But we have the momentum,” she said. “And chiquita looks like she’s running scared.”

A glance at Remy told Rowan Aelin was right; she looked flustered, and when she caught Rowan looking at her she scowled.

“Let’s just finish this,” she said. “Sideout. No quarter.”

If they scored now, they’d win the match. But if Aelin and Aedion got more up on them, it would force at least two more points as they had to win by two.

Aelin only chuckled at this, heading back to the serving line for a fifth time. She served a floater this time, the lack of spin on the ball sending it sailing over the net at an unpredictable angle. Remy received, and after Rowan put her slightly too close to the net, Aedion stuffed the ball back in her face.

24 - 24.

The next point Aelin won on a deep roll shot to the right corner, and suddenly it was match point in the opposite direction.

24 - 25, match point to the Ashryvvers.

 Thankfully this time, Rowan and Remy were ready. Rowan went head to head with Aedion on the block and won, earning only his third kill of the entire match.

25 - 25.

The next point was a service error from Remy after she attempted to tickle the tape the same way Aelin had, resulting in another scream of frustration.

25 - 26, match point for the Ashryvvers again.

Rowan gave Remy a set off the net and she managed to catch Aelin off-balance for a rare shank from the blonde.

 26 - 26.

Aedion shot Aelin a quick set to the middle and she had the ball in the sand before Rowan could even react.

26 - 27, match point for the Ashryvvers.Service error from Aedion after a bad toss for his jump serve.

27- 27.

Rowan wiped sweat from his eyes as he tried not to dwell on the score. With a cap at 30, there were only a possibility of four more points either way. He let out a steadying breath as he stepped up to serve. Aiming deep, he caught Aedion in an awkward position that resulted in an unredeemable pass.

28 - 27, match point for Rowan and Remy.

One more, Ro told himself. One more just like that and they would have won.He aimed for the same spot only to realize that Aedion and Aelin had switched positions, and where Aedion was powerful but cumbersome in the sand, Aelin was lightning fast. She managed the receive Aedion couldn’t, and when Aedion set her tight, she crushed the ball cross-court, right into the corner.

Remy threw up her hands, beaming.

“Out!” she said. “It’s out. That’s the match! Ro, we won!”

However, Rowan could tell in her bearing something was off, and he let his eyes flit to the line judge to investigate. The man came over just as Remy made a move to casually swipe at the sand with her toe, and he gestured to the imprint of a ball still visible in the sand.

“In,” he said, giving Remy a warning look as the Ashryvvers murmured to one another. “Point to the Ashryvvers.”

28 - 28.

Rowan tried not to tense at the realization Remy had been willing to cheat. It set his teeth on edge, and served as a reminder why he normally kept his distance from her. It was a rule he’d have to remember after today.

Aelin stepped up to serve with an unkind smile twisting at her full mouth, and tattooed the same deep corner she’d just hit. The line judge--not waiting for Remy’s assessment this time, ruled it in.

28 - 29, match point to the Ashryvvers.

Unfortunately, Aelin miscalculated as she attempted to hit the same spot with her next serve, and this time it was ruled out.

 29 - 29, the final match point.

Whoever won the next point would win the set and the match. One point to decide who would be the tournaments champs and who would be the losers.

Rowan’s could see the same thought in Aelin’s eyes as the both approached the net, Rowan’s hand stretched behind his back to signal his block to Remy. 

“So,” Aelin said as Remy went through her pre-serve ritual. “Where are you taking me to celebrate after?”

Rowan flashed her a feral grin.

“Didn’t take you for a girl who celebrates her losses.”

“I’m not,” she said. “But buy me a few congratulatory drinks when I win and maybe I’ll show you what type of girl I really am.

”Rowan heard the short whistle to signal Remy was asking for a re-toss on her serve, and he focused his attention back on Aelin momentarily.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” he challenged.

She bit her lip, eyes falling unmistakably to his cock. Her gaze was like a fist around his dick, and he had to fight back a groan.

“You know exactly what it means,” she said.

At that moment Remy served the ball, saving Rowan from his pitiful lack of retort. He forced himself to refocus as Aedion received, trying to forget the offer of casual sex Aelin had just thrown onto the table. Or perhaps she was just teasing him, trying to get under his skin so he’d forget what he was doing.Unfortunately for her, he wasn’t so easily rattled. Tracking Aedion as he received the ball and swung, Rowan forced him cross on the block. Remy returned with no issue, and Rowan’s muscles coiled in anticipation as Aelin dug the ball. Aedion set was right where Rowan now knew Aelin preferred it.

She swung hard but met his block, and just when Rowan started to think he’d won the point, she threw out a hand on blind instinct, sending the ball back up into the air on her side of the court. Instantly Aedion was there to feed her a quick set, and Aelin swung again just as hard.

Again Rowan jumped and managed to block her, and again she recovered.

Breathing hard, she approached a third time, exploding upwards at the same time Rowan did. This time, however, she pivoted mid-air, managing to avoid his outstretched hands and send the ball careening down.

Everything seemed to slow as Rowan turned to watch Remy dive for the ball, but it was too late; it had already hit the sand.

That was it; game, set, match.

The crowd erupted in cheers as the line judge made the official designation, and Aelin beamed.

“Nice game,” Rowan told her, stretching his hand out to her. “I thought I had you.”

Her smile only widened, eyes glittering as she tugged off her glasses and slid her palm into his to shake.

“Play your cards right and you still might.”

Rowan opened his mouth--though to say what, he wasn’t sure. Before he could formulate a response, he felt the brush of a hand down his back as Remy appeared at his side.

“Congratulations,” she said coolly, her arm slithering around Rowan’s waist now even as he subtly tried to peel her off. Undeterred, Remy tightened her grip as her eyes flitted to Aelin’s tattoo.

 “Not bad for a pair of--”

“I would think very carefully before you finish that sentence,” Aelin warned in a soft, dangerous tone. “And take your hands off him; he’s clearly not interested.”

Remy scowled.

“That is none of your business.”

“You made it my business when you started manhandling him in front of me. He’s too polite to embarrass you, but I’m not. Keep your hands to yourself.”

At this Remy loosened her grip a bit, even as she turned to glare up at Rowan.

“Are you serious going to let her speak to me like that?” she demanded.

“She’s not wrong,” Rowan said, wishing they could do this without an audience. “We’ve talked about this before.”

Remy only gave a cold laugh.

“Oh I see. Some slut offers to suck your dick and suddenly you have no loyalty. You’re a pig, Rowan.”

“Don’t call her a slut,” Rowan said, losing patience. “And stop acting like this is anything new between us.”

At this Aelin huffed a laugh, and Remy snarled.

“You are a miserable bitch, and you fucking deserve each other.”

At this she stormed off, and Aelin turned her bronzed grin on Rowan.

“She’s lovely,” she said. “You make a charming couple.”

“We’re not together,” he said uselessly.Their exchange just now had already made that clear.

“I know,” Aelin said, waggling her eyebrows as she gave him another suggestive up-down. “Lucky me.”

Rowan debated for half a second if he actually wanted to take this girl up on her tantalizing offer, even knowing it could never be anything more. After this weekend he would go back to Los Angeles to continue studying for the detective’s exam and she, presumably, would return to school in Texas. It wasn’t just the distance, either. Something about the idea of a one-night stand with her left him feeling a bit hollow. He’d gone through a ‘casual sex’ phase in the dreary months and years after losing Lyria, and now mindless hook-ups--even with a girl as hot as Aelin--had lost their luster. Besides, Aelin seemed like a girl who deserved better.

On the other hand, Rowan was only human, and goddamn him, there was a part of him which very much wanted to accept. Before he could stop himself, Rowan  imagined stripping off Aelin’s bikini and teasing her until she begged for his cock. As dominant as she was on the court, something wicked told him she would be submissive in bed.

However, before he could make a decision either way Aedion appeared, flashing Rowan a cocky grin as they shook hands before throwing Aelin over his shoulder and jogging towards a throng which had gathered at the center of the court. They were young--mostly likely still college students like Aelin--all of them dressed in various articles of burnt orange clothing, chanting “Ashryvver” at the top of their lungs.

Rowan could help himself as he tracked Aelin through the adoring crowd, beaming as the tournament administrator fought his way through the mass to place a beautiful fresh lei of white orchids around her neck. As when the man handed both Aelin and Aedion a crystal vase—serving in the place of a trophy, their throng of admirers burst into even louder cheers as the opening bars of All I Do is Win by DJ Khaled blared over the speakers. Rowan fended off a sensation dangerously similar to disappointment as Aelin scrambled up to sit on the shoulders of a sickeningly-handsome man with dark hair and striking blue eyes. Rowan watched as she strung a hand under the stranger’s chin to grin down at him, his smile similarly enraptured as they traded a laughed. 

Rowan forced his shoulders to drop from their rigid position. Perhaps she had just been teasing all that time. After all, she didn’t seem to remember Rowan even existed as she swayed to the music, fingers casually strung through the strangers hair to keep herself steady.

Forcing himself to look away, Rowan retreated back to where his friends waited. It was fine, he told himself. He came here to play, not get his dick wet, and he’d done that, and done it well. Now was the time for celebrating being back with his favorite people, not sulking over some girl he barely knew.

“Great game, man,” Fen said as Ro approached,accepting the Gatorade in his friend’s outstretched hand. “That was a tough break at the end.”

“No shame in that match, Ro. That girl is just unstoppable,” Cash added.

“And one good thing about you losing: I think you shook Remy for good,” Lor said. “She stormed over her to spew a bunch of bullshit about how much she hated all of us before she stormed off. Don’t think we will be seeing her again any time soon.”

“Oh amen to that, brother,” Fen said. “That’s worth losing a match any day.”

“I can’t say I was sorry to see her go,” Rowan admitted. “You were right; she had ulterior motives.”

Lorcan pretended to examine his nails in feigned indifference.

“I, for one, am shocked.”

“Speaking of ulterior motives...” Cash said, eyes trailing to where the Ashryvvers were still celebrating, Aelin perched on the mystery man’s shoulders. “Talk to me about Galathynius.”

Rowan clenched his jaw, debating the merits of making up a lie before relenting and saying simply, “she’s Cuban.”

“Oh fuck,” Fen said. “You’re in trouble now, Kahukore.”

“I knew it,” Cash said, grin wolfish. “She’s perfect.”

“Cousin’s pretty hot, too,” Fen observed, eyes tracking Aedion as he posed for photos for the tournament website. “What have you got on him?”

“He’s a douchebag,” Rowan said. “The first thing out of his mouth before the match started was a joke about getting lei-ed.”

Fen only laughed, teeth bright against his brown skin.

“Lighten up, man. If I dismiss every haole guy who makes that joke, there won’t be any dick left!”

“There’s an obvious solution here,” Lor said, cuffing Fenrys affectionately by the back of his neck. “Stop chasing after white boys.”

“No promises,” Fen said, grinning. “Let’s go get drunk.”

“Can I shower first?” Ro asked, pushing his silver hair out of his eyes. “I feel like a vagrant.”

“And you smell like one, too,” Cash said. “You’re a jackass,” Rowan said, though he couldn’t help laughing as he strung an arm over his friend’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”

“You owe me fifty bucks, by the way,” Cash called to Lor. 

Lorcan rolled his eyes. 

“You said she was Puerto Rican,” Lor said. “She’s Cuban, so I don’t owe you shit.”

“At least a drink, then. Fen thought she was Swedish!

“We don’t know!” Fen said, laughing. “One of her parents could still be Swedish. We’ll have Ro ask her later. Double or nothing, Kahukore?”

Rowan’s jaw clenched, and he fought not to scowl outright. A quick glance back at the court told him that though Aelin had finally alighted from the brunette’s shoulders, they were now kicking sand at each other like children. He wondered how long it would take him to get her bright, infectious laughter out of his head.

“If you want to know, you better ask her now.”

“Wait, seriously?” Cash said. “You didn’t get her number? What is wrong with you?”

“She’s not my type.”

“What does that even mean, ‘type’?” Fen said. “I don’t like even women and she’s still my type. Don’t turn into Lor unless you’re cool with dying alone.”

Having no reasonable response to this, Rowan  just rolled his eyes.

“Rude,” Lor said, not actually sounding bothered by the comment.

“Let’s just go already,” Rowan said.The sooner he got drunk, the sooner he could forget about Aelin Ashryvver-Galathynius and all the promises he’d seen in her dazzling eyes.

“Last chance,” Cash warned. “Are you sure you don’t want to ask for her number? If nothing else, she looks like she’d be willing to give you the ride of your life.”

Rowan had to admit he was tempted, especially as he remembered Aelin promising him the same thing. Still, when he watch the same dark-haired guy string an arm around her shoulders and kiss her temple, his mind was made up.

Jerking his head towards the parking lot, he permitted himself one final glance in Aelin’s direction before he turning his back to her for good.

X

Several hours hours later, Rowan found himself sitting on the beach with a beer in hand, watching the sun set over the glittering azure water. Oahu wasn’t quite home— not in the same way that Maui was—but Rowan hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the islands until that moment. It was the familiar sound of the surf and the balmy air, much cleaner here than in LA. 

More than that, though, it was being here with his friends. He couldn’t remember the last time all four of them had been together, and he didn’t want to think about how long it might be before it happened again. He just wanted to enjoy the evening and...forget for a while

.“What are you thinking about?” Cash asked from beside him. “You look a million miles away.”

Not wanting the dampen the evening’s light mood, Rowan took a swig of beer and said, “

Just wondering if I should take out a bigger insurance policy on my motorcycle. Remy knows where I live, and part of me is afraid she’s already en-route to the mainland to destroy all my shit.”

At this, Lor laughed.

“Listen, you’re not wrong.”

“Just please tell me we are done with her,” Cash said. “I don’t think I have any more fake nice left in me after this weekend.”

“We’re done with her,” Rowan confirmed. “Also, she is never going to make the tour.”

“I don’t think AVP was very even on the table,” Fen said. “She just made that shit up to get your attention.”

“It might have worked, too, if Galathynius hadn’t stepped in,” Cash said, holding up his beer.

“At the very least, we’d be stuck entertaining her all weekend while she tried to slither in your pants,” Lor told Rowan. “For that, at least, I’m grateful to Galaythius.”

“Now, she will make the tour,” Cash said.

“Future Olympian, no doubt,” Fen agreed. “And Ro missed his chance to be right there with her. Instead he’ll be watching her win gold on tv and jacking off into a pool of his tears.”

“Are you done?” Rowan said, lobbing his empty can at Fen.

 “No,” Fen said. “I have enough material to last us the night, at least.”

Rowan rolled his eyes as they all labored to their feet and headed towards a rowdy pub farther down the beach. No one had to ask where they were headed; drinks at the Hideaway had always been their tradition when they came to Waikiki.

Despite the early hour, the bar was already bumping by the time they arrived, and as soon as they walked in and surveyed the scene, Cash burst out laughing. Lor, who’d followed his friend’s gaze, gave a good-natured groan.

“Oh you’ve got to be shitting me.”

There, sitting on top the bar, was Aelin Ashryvver-Galathynius, her usual coterie fawning around her as she tipped her head back to drain a shot of tequila. She’d traded her bikini for a pair of cut-off over-alls worn over a distractingly lacy bralette, her long blonde hair falling to her waist in two French braids.  

She still wore her lei from earlier, the white standing out brilliantly against her burnished skin.

Everyone she was with cheered as she held the glass aloft, and before Ro could think to make a quick exit and save himself the awkwardness of having to face her. Aelin’s mouth stretched into a sensuous grin as she surveyed his blue button-down and slim-fitting chinos.

“So we all agree now, right?” Cash said, giving Rowan a gentle shove. “Ro has to go over there and talk to her.”

Rowan’s stomach twisted unpleasantly as he watched Aelin lean over to whisper to the same dark-haired guy she’d been with earlier.

“Definitely,” Fen said. “It’s fate.”

“No,” Rowan said, turning towards the bar in an attempt to block Aelin out. “And I think she has a boyfriend, anyway.”

“Only one way to find out,” Cash said, grinning as he slid past Rowan. “Wish me luck, boys.”

Rowan had to actively fight a scowl.

“You’re seriously going over there?”

“Listen, brother: if you’re really not going to take your shot, then I am.”

He gave Rowan a challenging look as if daring him to call his bluff, but Rowan only shrugged.

“Go for it, man.”

Rowan told himself not to look, but curiosity got the best of him as Cash approached. Aelin watched him do so with keen interest, eyes glittering as she slid from the bar to her feet. Rowan was too far away to hear Cash’s opening line, but whatever it was, Aelin tipped her head back and laughed, her hand inadvertently falling to his arm as she did so.

“I need a fucking drink,” Rowan muttered, flagging to the bartender and gesturing for three shots of whiskey. 

Draining his, he glanced over again. Cash’s head was bent slightly as he spoke in Aelin’s ear, her smile dazzling as she listened.

Lorcan reached for his own shot, but Ro grabbed it before he could, throwing in back in a single movement before taking Fen’s as well.

“Damn boy, you’ve got it bad,” Fen observed.

“Cash better take her somewhere else to fuck,” Lor added, frowning. “She strikes me as a screamer, and I forgot my earplugs.”

“You both suck,” Rowan said, resisting the urge to look at Cash and Aelin for a third time. He already felt pathetic; he didn’t need to look it, too.

However, after a beat he couldn’t help himself, and he glanced up just in time to see Cash brush a kiss on Aelin’s cheek before retreating back towards them. 

When Aelin caught Rowan looking she crooked a finger towards him in an obvious “come hither” gesture, and Rowan felt his stomach flop pleasantly. Cash grinned as he reached their group again, jerking his head in Aelin’s direction as she crossed her legs in an expectant gesture.

“What did you do?” Rowan demanded.

“Greased the wheels for you,” Cash said, smiling. “Go get her, champ.”

At this he turned to Fen, smile widening.“And the cousin’s bi, by the way. You’re welcome.”

“Good work,” Fen said, clapping Cash on the back before turning to frown at Rowan. “What are you even still doing here? Go already, before she comes to her senses and chooses someone else!”

Flipping him a casual middle finger, Rowan smoothed back his silver hair and headed towards her, trying to seem more suave than he honestly felt. Jesus, he hadn’t been this tied in knots by a girl since he’d met Lyria as a first-year cadet. Normally the idea would pain him, but in that moment he had the oddest sensation of her standing beside him, smiling as if to say, “make me proud.”

Aelin smirked and uncoiled to her feet as he approached, grin widening as he said, “You stalking me?”

She gave a lover’s laugh, low and sensuous.

“Oh, you know how the songs goes: The Eyes of Texas are upon you, do not think you can escape them.”

He couldn’t fight his smile at this.

“I should have known,” he said.

“I’ll forgive you this once,” she said. “But you owe me. Why don’t we start with...your name? I’m Aelin, as I’m sure you already know.”

Not wanting to give her the pleasure of agreeing, he simply said, 

“Rowan.”

“Nice to finally meet you,” she said. “Took you long enough. I thought I was going to have to kiss your friend just to get your attention.”

“He would have loved that.”

Aelin laughed.

“He’s charming, but too pretty for me; I have a rule of not dating guys who have better hair than I do.”

“Don’t tell him that,” Rowan said. “It will go to his head.”

“Quite literally,” she said. “Let me introduce you around,” she said as Aedion approached.“My cousin, I think you know.”

Aedion only grinned, holding up the lei of purple orchids around his neck. “Told you I would.”

Aelin rolled her eyes as she ran a hand down the back of the dark-haired man she’s been with earlier, seeking his attention. When he turned, she gestured to Rowan.

“Galen, this is Rowan. Rowan, this is my other cousin, Galen.”

“Nice to meet you,” Galen said, his accent thicker than either Aelin or Aedion’s. 

Her cousin.

It seemed so obvious now. Though his hair and skin were darker than hers, he had her same brilliant eyes, as did Aedion. Rowan was never going to hear the end of it from his friends.

Galen gave Rowan a quick up-down before firing off in rapid, staccato Spanish, the words so fast Rowan couldn’t even pick out a single one.

Aelin only gave her cousin a good-natured eyeroll before pushing on his chest.

“Vete,” she said. “no me molestes.”

“Let me guess,” Rowan said. “He threatened to string me up if I even so much as blink wrong?

”Aelin gave a look of theatrical mock surprise.

“No way, you speak Spanish?”

“Tell him I come in peace,” Rowan said.

“He knows I can fight my own battles,” Aelin replied with a strug. “He and Aedion just like to prove their usefulness. Where were we?”

“I think you were introducing me to your court,” Rowan said, gesturing as the legion of people surrounding Aelin.

“Everyone else can wait,” Aelin said, gesturing to the bartender for drinks. “I don’t feel like sharing you quite yet.”

When two tequila shots and two beers appeared on the bar, Rowan threw down a fifty before Aelin could put it on her tab.

“Trying to butter me up?” She asked, batting her eyelashes coquettishly.

“Do I need to?” He replied, accepting the shot from her.

She only smirked, grabbing his fist and running her tongue down the back of his hand before covering it with salt. He had to fend off a pleasant shudder. The gesture had shot straight to his cock.

“We’ll see,” she said, offering him a lime now, too. “Ready?”

He lifted his glass to her, but before he could lick the salt, she grabbed his wrist.

“You can’t drink without a toast, are you insane?”

“I don’t have one.”

She rolled her eyes before coaching his arm up above his head.

“Arriba,” she said before gently guiding his hand down. “Abajo. Al centro,” she prompted him to clink his glass to hers in the center. “Por dentro.”

With that she licked the salt off her hand before throwing the shot back easily and sucking on the lime. Rowan decided not to read into the suggestive look she gave him as she did so.

When they’d finished, Aelin grabbed his hand, gesturing for him to pick up his beer before she pulled him away from the bar.

“Where are we going?” He asked, hazarding a glance back at his friends to see them all watching him with knowing smirks.

“Somewhere quieter,” Aelin said, leading him up a set of rickety stairs that lead to an upper lounge.

The low couches were open to the air and overlooked the beach, and considering how things with Aelin had begun this afternoon, it felt…dangerously romantic.

You can’t fall for this girl, he reminded himself.

She didn’t live here, and neither did he. He was busy studying for the detective exam, and she was still in college, for Christ’s sake. Whatever he did, he couldn’t catch feelings for her.

However, it was an idea that felt easier said than done as Aelin yanked him down beside her on a couch, her head propped on a fist as she studied him with those mesmerizing blue eyes. She was so beautiful it was almost hard to breathe.

“So,” she said. “Start at the beginning.”

He laughed.

“The beginning of what?”

She grinned, her lips the most kissable shade of pink.

“Everything. I want to know it all.”

IF YOU LIKED THIS AND WANT MORE, CHECK OUT PART TWO, OUT NOW! 🏐 🍺 ♥️ 

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[featherymalignancy]

MASTERLIST: The Eyes of Texas: A Rowaelin Origin Story  

🏐 🍺 ❤️

Long before Cash and Nesta, there was Rowan and Aelin.

Rowan Whitethorn—a Navel academy graduate and recently discharged second lieutenant from the United States Navy—takes a break from studying of his detective’s exam in Los Angeles to fly back to his native Hawaii and compete in a twos volleyball tournament with his ex, one of the best sand players on the amateur circuit.

Beyond Remy’s devious machinations to win Rowan back, the biggest impediment to victory is the so-called Ashryver twins, a pair of cousins from Miami with a reputation of their own. Rowan can’t help but admire the gorgeous and sharp-tongued Aelin Galathynius, who’s more than ready to give Remy a run for her money—both on the court and in the race for Rowan’s affection.

This takes place in the same AU-verse as my Nessian story In Vino Veritas, about four years before.

Part I:

 “Goddamn,” Cash said, interrupting Rowan’s reverie. “She is fucking gorgeous.”

“That’s her,” Fen said. “From UT. Aelin Galathynius. Ro, I hope you and Remy can pull it together for this match. Otherwise this girl is gonna fuck you up.”

Part II:

 “Damn,” Cash said when Rowan had finished. “Are you sure this girl isn’t a witch? Because she has you under a spell.”

“She’s—” Rowan began, breaking off with a laugh. “I really like her, man.”