“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re ghosting me, Cecy.”
I take a slurp of my energy drink and try to remain cool and unaffected, despite Lan’s shoulder that’s nudging mine.
At Remi’s and Ava’s insistence, our group of friends have gotten together for drinks at a pub downtown.
The big table in the middle of the room overflows with drinks, chatter, side-nudges and the general hyper energy that takes place whenever we’re together.
Remi dragged Bran and Creigh along, and Ava got me and Glyn to join.
Anni would’ve loved to be here as well, but she still hasn’t gained back her full freedom and has to be monitored at all times by her guards. She’s also been staying in the Heathens’ mansion.
I would rather not be in a place that’s buzzing with people, loud music, and sensory chaos, but I’m willing to do it instead of letting Ava get drunk and have no one to take care of her after.
Also, anywhere is a better place than my head.
I just didn’t count on Lan joining us because A, he doesn’t hang out in our circle and has his own entourage; and B, I really don’t want to talk to him after the fire episode at the Heathens’.
That was a week and a half ago, and I still feel that burning sensation down my throat whenever I swallow.
Another tap on my shoulder, a subtle nudge, and the feeling of his breath down my neck.
I stare at Lan, who looks dashing in his casual clothes without him making an effort. It’s the easygoing grin and the aristocratic features. He shares them with his twin brother, but Bran appears elegant and sophisticated.
He’s nothing more than a devil.
“What do you want, Lan?”
“Don’t sulk over such a trivial issue.”
“Trivial,” I whisper-yell so the others don’t hear. “Did you just call arsontrivial?”
“No one got hurt.”
“Jeremy did.” My chest squeezes, as is the case whenever I think about him.
“Meh. He survived.” Lan’s blank gaze remains in place, and I come to the bitter realization that I really don’t know this man.
I’ve spent twenty years in his orbit and about three years crushing on him, and yet I have no clue who the hell he is.
“He was hurt, Lan,” I repeat. “He was injured and needed medical attention.”
“He still survived like a cat with nine lives. Also, hold on, why are you getting so worked up about Jeremy? Don’t you hate him?”
Worked up.
Is that what it looks like from the outside? That I’m worked up?
Ava said something similar when I kept asking Anni questions as soon as she was able to meet with us again for lunch.
“Why are you so invested in this, Cecy?” she asked with narrowed eyes.
I waved her off, but now, I face Lan. “Because I unknowingly caused a fire after you used my goodwill for satanic purposes.”
He laughs, slapping his knees, but none of the emotions reach his eyes. “Aren’t you being a little dramatic? It’s the Remi effect, isn’t it?”
It dawns on me then. All of this is a joke to Lan, a game he plays, a fun activity he indulges in.
He couldn’t care less who needs to be crushed as long as he has what he wants.