“Wait until you see the music room. And they havenoplayer this year.”
The room has a bloody grand piano and aharp.
I’ve finished my drink and definitely need a second by the time we’re done with the mini tour.
The lounge is considerably more crowded; I even spot Claire, tucked under Keller’s arm as always. She waves us over, and we join her after refilling our cups.
“This place is insane,” I tell her.
“Oh, it’s nothing compared to the wyverns’ den,” Dez assures me.
I’ve only been once, but I agree that the wyverns’ place feels more luxurious, more mature somehow. The sharks’ place is incredible, but it makes me think of a bachelor pad—or a regular fraternity.
“Or the Vesper Tower,” Claire weighs in.
I drink my beer, trying not to picture my tiny dorm room or Henrietta Jameson, my annoying new roommate.
No wonder Claire and Dez both chose to move in with their boyfriends.
“You should visit sometime,” she tells us.
“Can we visit?” Olivia questions. “I thought the houses were super private, and us mere mortals were persona non grata other than invite-only parties.”
Claire winces. “True enough, but that’s mostly at night. I mean, the vespers are super private, but with a bit of notice, I can definitely have my friends around.”
She looks up at her prince charming with shoulder-length golden hair. “Of course. Whenever you’d like.”
They’re so sweet I throw up a little in my mouth. I’m pretty sure she could ask for the moon and he’d say the same thing.
“You’re not trying to steal my guests, now, are you?”
I tense before turning. I’d recognize that voice anywhere.
Cross walks up to us in dark green chinos and a white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, open over a tank.
“‘Evening.”
Everyone greets him except me, too busy avoiding his probing stare.
Maybe because I shamelessly stalked him all day, maybe because of the bet I agreed to yesterday, or simply because he looks like that, I’m having a hard time being this close to him.
“And they’re not your guests. I invited them,” Dez tells him.
“To my house,” he argues. “With my stamp of approval. Speaking of, where’s the hobbit?”
It takes me a moment to realize he means Jack, but Dez is quicker. “In the game room. He’s a bit too skinny for a hobbit though.”
“Should have guessed.” He smirks. “Happy I let your little boyfriend with the grownups?”
“Ecstatic,” I mumble.
He knows I demanded Jack’s presence simply because I assumed he wouldn’t grant that request. I should have guessed that Hector would choose to be contrary and let him in just to annoy me.
Or to get me here.
“Lily loves your studio,” Dez weighs in unprompted.
I can’t deny it. “Who even uses it?” The smell tells me that at least one person does, but I can’t begin to guess which shark hides artistic inclinations.