I tap my computer screen. “This shouldn’t take me long. Maybe just tonight.” Daisy’s ex-friends have been finding ways to get her phone number, even after Daisy blocked them. They’ve been harassing her enough that she asked me for help. Hence, the laptop.
It sucks that the price of fame can be so cruel. Like past shitty friends coming back to make your life hell. Jealously eats people up in different ways, I guess. I wish that Daisy’s ex-friends could find their chill, take a hint and stop texting her.
Willow pushes up her glasses. “It’s nice that you’re doing this for Daisy, but…are you sure you want to? Isn’t it illegal?”
“Yeah, but is it really illegal if I’m doing it to help someone else?”
Willow ponders this for a second. “Um…that sounds like a trick question.”
Damn, she really is an angel. I lean in to kiss the top of her nose.
“Mother of dragons!” Lo yells at the Cobalt’s mansion.
We’ve been waiting for what feels like forever for Connor and Rose.
Dressed in a navy blue, silver, red Thor costume and a winged helmet, Daisy outstretches her plastic hammer towards Lily. “You stoleth thy lightsaber, you pesky fairy.”
Lily looks even ganglier in her Tinker Bell costume, green tutu dress and wings. She whips out a blue plastic beam. “Prepare to meet thy doom, Thor.” Lily and Daisy are grinning as the plastic weapons make contact.
Ryke gave Lily his lightsaber, and he also lent Daisy his blackish-brown robe. So now he’s just dressed in a tunic and pants. I nudge Willow’s shoulder and nod towards Ryke. “He still look like Anakin Skywalker to you?”
Willow grimaces and shakes her head. “Lo’s going to be upset. But Daisy is pregnant, so maybe he’ll understand that Ryke is trying to keep his pregnant wife warm.” Willow beams at the words pregnant and wife.
Daisy went through hell and back trying to get pregnant, and Willow’s happy for her best friend. Hell, I’m happy for Daisy. It’s hard not to want joy for someone who brings so much joy to other people.
It’s why I’m confused whenever anyone wants me to be happy. You know, why want that?
I point to my laptop screen, catching Willow’s attention. “I’m going for it.”
“I’ll bail you out of jail if anything goes wrong,” she says softly, smiling.
My lips lift.
“Devil!” Lo shouts at me from up the driveway.
I raise my gaze from the computer screen, unsurprised that I’m being given a nickname.
“You know what happens when an angel and a devil create a bodily union? The apocalypse.” Jesus this is why he gave us a couple costume. “Do the right thing and don’t end the world tonight.”
“That’s definitely not how that works,” I say dryly.
Lo looks to Ryke. “Do you hear this guy?”
“Yeah. I guess he doesn’t understand the fucking meaning of apocalypse. Want to spell it out for him?”
I cross my arms over my chest and give Ryke a look like, why do you have to be on my case too? Man, it royally sucks that Willow now has two brothers. One was enough since his name is Loren Hale. Adding Ryke into the mix is like throwing in barbed wire and explosives.
I’m not a fucking GI Joe doll. I’m not about to run through their obstacles with a smile and yes, sir.
It doesn’t help that Ryke doesn’t trust me. I see it in every inch of his I fucking hate you stance and his towering, broody ass glare.
“Apocalypse,” Lo defines, “also known as the end of your godforsaken, puny little life by the powers that be.”
“Also known as me,” Ryke chimes in.
“And me,” Lo finishes with a half-smile. “Welcome to hell.”
I barely blink. “I’ve seen scarier.”
Ryke’s brows jump in surprise. “Who?”
“My brothers.” I turn into my computer, a little shocked I even uttered those words. My abdomen tenses and I roll out my shoulders.
Whatever.
Lo and Ryke have dropped the whole overly protective brother routine, and Willow nudges my shoe with hers. “Sorry about them,” she whispers.
I shake my head. “It’s good they care about you.” If it were any other guy on the receiving end of their bullshit, I’d probably be applauding. Willow deserves people to care about her enough to grill whatever guy she’s with. I’m just the lucky asshole who gets her.
“They’re ten fucking minutes late now,” Lo complains. As soon as he says the words, the front door opens. Rose struts out first in a long, light-blue draped dress with a gold belt, along with a platinum blonde wig.
Daenerys Targaryen. The Mother of Dragons from Game of Thrones. It’s not my genre of choice, but I’ve been watching with Willow.
I glance to my girlfriend. Her smile has officially burst across her face. “It’s perfect,” she says softly. “I never thought I’d get to see Rose dressed up as Dany.” Before I can say anything, she leans a hip against the limo and angles to me. “Are you nervous about the party?”