Chapter 16 Shea

When I got to the Bean, Ashlyn and Arya were already in front of it, heads craned back to take in the enormity of it. I had never actually seen the giant mirrored structure, and it was quite a sight to behold.

"Whoa," Ashlyn said as I joined them.

"You got that right." I pulled out my phone. "Okay, girls, huddle up for pics."

We spent several minutes posing, both in front of and reflected in the Bean. The way the curved surface stretched and squished our bodies and faces—along with the city skyline—was enough to dissolve us all into giggles. Nothing like a ridiculous photoshoot to make you forget a certain vampire and all the sexual tension he spewed.

My stomach growled, and Arya started laughing. "You need to feed that wild beast before it eats you alive."

I chuckled. Apparently, having your blood drunk by a vampire makes you ravenously hungry. "Yassss! Now, where's a good place to eat around here?"

Ashlyn pointed. "There's something over there that smells good. Let's give that a try."

I bit my lower lip. "Better watch it or I'll be calling you Toucan Sam." At Ashlyn's confused look I added, "Follow your no-Oooose."

Arya rolled her eyes, though she was still smiling. "She gets punnier when she's hungry. Come on."

We made our way down to The Grill, just on the other side of the Bean. People swarmed in and out of the establishment, laughing and chattering, while ice skaters wove around the outdoor rink to a Michael Bublé Christmas tune.

Warm air greeted us inside, along with an elegant interior and a perky hostess.

"How many in your party?" the blonde asked, a big smile on her face and a Santa hat on her head.

"Just the three of us," I said.

"Okay. Right this way." She jotted down a note at her station and then led us through the restaurant.

"Wow! This is way nicer than I thought it was going to be," Ashlyn said, her wide gaze taking in every inch of the place.

I had to agree. Dark and light woods stood against sleek black iron and leather, canned lighting and wall sconces standing like jewels, even with the full light of day pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

The hostess sat us at a large table by one window, handing everyone menus before she excused herself.

I tried to study the menu, but my eyes kept wandering to the skaters. Most followed the edges of the rink, but a few of the more daring ones cut tricks at the center .

"We should go skating," Arya said, bouncing a little in her seat.

Ashlyn scrunched her nose. "Uh, have you seen my two left feet? There's no way I'm putting blades on those things. I'd be lethal."

"They're not sharpened," Arya said, playing with the napkin in front of her. "Not for this kind of thing."

"I'm with Red on this one," I said, pointing my thumb at Ashlyn.

The cold, pale ice reminded me of Julian, and I just wanted to forget him for a little while. Like how good it felt when he bit into my neck, the thrill of rubbing the hardness between his legs…

"Hey, I'm Eric, and I'll be your waiter today," said an attractive young man. I blinked out of my lustful memories and smiled. "What would you ladies like to start with?"

I glanced down at my menu. "Cheese curds. We're sharing. And a Dr. Pepper for me."

Arya ordered a water, and Ashlyn got a Coke.

When the waiter walked away, giving us time to look over our menus, I leaned forward. "Was it just me, or did Waiter Guy give Ashlyn his full attention?"

Arya gasped. "I think you're right. Ashlyn!" She nudged her friend with her elbow.

Ashlyn rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I don't think so."

"Aw, come on. You're like bronzed perfection over there," I argued. And she really was. This girl had the body of an athlete and the coloring of a surfer babe, which oddly went really well with her bright orange hair.

Ashlyn shrugged. "Eh, even if he was, he's not my type. "

"Because he doesn't have an Utred style haircut?" Arya teased, making Ashlyn cut her a glare.

I briefly remembered that guy from the night of the attack, and honestly, he was way hotter than our waiter. But I wasn't going to say that.

"What is your type?" I asked instead. "We can help you find Mr. Right Now." I waggled my eyebrows playfully.

Ashlyn sighed as she looked out at the skaters. "I don't know. I guess I like muscular guys. Like, I want a guy who can bench press me without breaking a sweat. And if he has tattoos, the panties are coming off!"

We burst into laughter, earning the side-eye from every patron in the restaurant. I bit back my chuckles and tried to lower my voice.

"So, basically, your type is Magic Mike," I summarized.

Ashlyn gave a decisive nod. "Exactly. Although, I'm pretty sure Channing Tatum is everyone's type."

"Amen," Arya and I said together, and this time, when we cracked up into cackles, a put-off older couple got up and left.

"I guess they haven't seen Magic Mike," I whispered.

The waiter returned, and we straightened, pretending to be upstanding and totally appropriate diners.

"Here are your drinks," Waiter Guy said, serving Ashlyn's drink first. I held my hand over my mouth, trying to stifle my snickers as I flared my brows at Ashlyn behind the waiter's back. "Are you girls ready to order?"

We placed our order, Waiter Guy beaming a little brighter as he took Ashlyn's.

When he scurried back to the kitchen, I hissed, "I told you! "

Ashlyn shook her head again, a bashful smile on her face. "So, what are we doing next?"

"Hmmm." I tapped my chin. "Hold on."

After digging my phone out of my bag, I did a search for local events and found one nearby. My face split into a grin as I tucked my phone into my lap. "Perfect."

"So?" Arya asked, her brows raised.

I pursed my lips. "Nope. It's a surprise."

Ashlyn sat back, folding her arms. "How about you give us a hint."

I leveled a mischievous smirk at Ashlyn. "You like music, right?"

She nodded. "Yeah. What about it?"

I raised my brows twice, then sat back with a self-satisfied smirk.

"That's it?" Arya asked, stirring her water with her straw.

A chime from my lap made me pause and look down. It was a picture from Julian. Too curious to resist, I opened the message.

It was a picture of him wearing the kitty sweater with Rainbow curled up on his lap. Entirely too cute! I couldn't help but snicker.

"What's so funny?" Arya asked.

I glanced up at her, feeling like I'd just been with a dirty magazine caught by my Gram. "Oh, nothing."

Ashlyn snatched the phone out of my hand faster than I could react .

"Hey!"

"This one's from Julian ," Ashlyn said, smirking at me as my face burned. "Oh, he's hot. Apparently, he likes pussy."

"What?" Arya exclaimed, jumping out of her chair and going around me to take a look.

Another chime sounded, and I squeezed my eyes shut in mortification.

"Ooh, and this one is from—who's Professor Douche?" Ashlyn asked, scrunching her face in curiosity.

My heart leapt with panic. This was so not the way I wanted them to find out about my involvement with Caesar. And, fuck, what did he say?

I snatched my phone back like my life depended on it and shoved it into the front of my pants, crossing my arms over it.

"You know that won't stop me, right?" Arya threatened, though she went back to her seat without putting up a fight. "Have you been holding out on us? Who are these guys?"

"Are you actually seeing a professor, or is that just some weird nickname?" Ashlyn asked.

I had never been so thankful that I didn't use Caesar's real name in my contacts. There'd be no explaining my way out of that, even with the truth.

I didn't like lying to my only two friends, but I didn't know what to say without knowing what Caesar had texted.

I cleared my throat. "What—um—what did he say?"

"I don't know. You took it before I could read it."

Oh, thank God!

"Come on, spill, Shea," Arya insisted with a nudge .

"It's nothing," I blurted, my heart still beating a million miles a minute in my chest. "Just two guys who are kinda into me but don't want to admit it. There's really nothing to tell."

Liar.

"That first dude looked older." Ashlyn leaned over the table toward me, a spark of intrigue in her eyes. "You little minx. He's my type."

I snorted, even as possessive jealousy tugged at my insides. "Trust me, he's super unavailable. They both are. Which is why there's nothing to tell."

They both gave me glances that said, "bullshit," but I didn't elaborate further. I wondered for a split second if I should just tell them. Keeping all of this bottled up was killing me, and I was sincerely desperate to get it out.

Finally, I decided that now wasn't the right time. Coward.

"What about you, Arya?" I asked. She'd been notably quiet about her own love life, and I did want to know if there'd been any new developments in that area.

Even though I didn't deserve to hear about it because I wasn't willing to share…

Her cheeks colored and she bit her lip. "Well, all I will say is, what happens in the avian dorms stays in the avian dorms."

I cocked my head at her with a frown.

"She and Tobias had sex," Ashlyn whispered to me.

"Omigod!" I shouted, ignoring the few scoffs my outburst received from the patrons. "You banged the moody dragon and didn't tell me?" Not that I had the right to complain, but it did sting a little.

Arya just shrugged with a coy smirk .

"How was it?" I asked.

"It was pretty damn great," she said with a giggle.

"So, are you guys, like, dating?"

"They're not putting a label on it," Ashlyn interjected before Arya could respond. "Apparently, they're just ‘hanging out.'"

Kinda sounded like my situation. Well, both of them.

"Will you stop it?" Arya chided even though she was smiling.

"Okay, you're right," Ashlyn agreed. "We're supposed to be having a girls' day out. No more guy talk."

Arya said, "Great," at the same time I said, "I'm good with that."

We endured a moment of silence while we sipped our drinks and pretended there was nothing awkward about any of this.

The waiter came over then, balancing a full tray. He handed out the cheese curds first, placing steaming hot plates in front of everyone—shrimp and lobster ballerine for Arya, Manny's deli combo for me, and a green chili cheeseburger for Ashlyn.

"Let me know if you need anything else," he said, his gaze lingering just a moment longer on Ashlyn than on anyone else.

We burst into giggles again as soon as he left.

"I'm sorry," I wheezed between giggles, "but that dude is totally crushing on Ashlyn."

Ashlyn scoffed. "Whatever, two-texter."

I put up my hands. "I know. I know. I said I'm sorry."

I popped a cheese curd into my mouth, feeling that satisfying crunch as the melted cheese oozed over my tongue. Heaven. On. Earth .

I lifted one side of the basket, angling it at my friends. "Peace offering?"

Our chatter dissolved as we all tore into our food. And as delicious as my sandwich was, I couldn't quite enjoy it around my burning curiosity for what Caesar's text might have said.

When I couldn't take it anymore, I excused myself to the bathroom, both my friends too invested in their meals to notice my squirminess. As soon as I made it past the door, I pulled my phone out of my pants and swiped it open.

"I think we should talk. In person. Let me know when is a good time and I'll try to get away."

My heart thudded, my appetite thoroughly ruined by the pool of fear, curiosity and preemptive rejection that swirled in my stomach. When, in the history of human relationships, has the phrase "we need to talk" led to anything good?