He’s bein’ so dang cute and flirty. I’m guessin’ her side of the conversation is just as bad.
Robin watched his reflection in the window fade and strengthen as Raven drove past the street lights.
If ‘sellta were here…
He’d be all curled up next to me. Maybe he’d have those long legs of his tucked up on the seat.
I’d kiss his forehead.
I’d kiss his face. I wouldn’t be able to help it, not with him sittin’ right there. How could I not kiss him, with him bein’ right there?
How did I not want him like this when I had him here? Why was I so dang quick to shove him away?
‘sellta, I ain’t ever gonna shove you away again. Not ever again. My ‘sellta. My beautiful fey.
Ambrose scoffed. “And you said I was getting horny. Ha!”
Robin scowled at him. “Stupid dummy. I ain’t even doin’ nothin’. You just wanted to throw that line back at me for any reason. And there ain’t a good reason. Not right now.”
Ambrose put his phone away. “So, tell me. What’s biting you?”
Robin fidgeted with his right cuff link. “Raven said my ‘sellta’s dyin’.”
“What? And you’re still here? Robin, if you need to go to him, go to him.”
He accidently unbuttoned it and the cuff link fell on the seat. “Oh, blast!”
“Here. Hold still. I’ll find it.”
Raven looked in the rear view mirror. “What? What did you lose?”
“Ain’t nothin’ for you to worry about. Ambrose’s got it under control.”
Raven narrowed his eyes suspiciously before pulling his attention back to driving safely.
Robin looked down at Ambrose’s black hair.
What would it be like to run my fingers through it? Bet it wouldn’t be as silky as Isellta’s hair. Bet it would be coarse and—
“Here we are.” Ambrose picked up the missing piece and reattached it. “Okay. No more fiddling with those things. If you lose them for real, Raven will kill both of us and you know it.”
“Dang truth.” He set his hands in his lap. “I ain’t scared about him dyin’. He’s fey. Fey are immortal. Ev’ryone knows that. Fey don’t get hurt. Fey don’t get sick. Fey don’t die. Convenient for me, right?”
“Did you call Jay to verify, anyway?”
“Yeah, I tried, but he ain’t answerin’ his phone. Prob’lly all knocked out asleep or somethin’.”
Ambrose frowned. “So, you aren’t worried?”
“Tch. Of course, I’m worried. But worried ain’t the same thing as panic-stricken, you know. Anyway, it’s okay. It’s okay. I’ll see him after the weddin’. I’ll get over there as fast as I can and I’ll see him again. My ‘sellta. My sweet, soft Isellta.” He flapped his hands into his lap. “Ambrose, why couldn’t I see what I had right in front of me? Why didn’t I run after him? Why’d I let him go?”
Ambrose’s frown lifted. “We all make stupid mistakes, Robin. I know I have. Some mistakes have been worse than others.” He took a breath to possibly continue with his thought, but Robin stopped him with the universal halt signal.
“Don’t go tellin’ me stuff about learnin’ from my mistakes. I get it. I’m tryin’ my best.”
Ambrose smiled kindly. “I know you are. So am I.”