Chapter Fifteen
By the time New Year's Eve rolls around—I mean Advent of the Honest—I barely remember that tall, broody what's-his-name.
Ugh. Who am I kidding? I can't stop thinking of Az. I have quickly fallen in love with this cozy little mountain town, but I can't seem to fully relax here. That grumpy demon haunts every corner of this place.
Every time I take a stroll through downtown to admire the little shops and grab a coffee, or when I'm in the library helping Noelle sort through her books for the fundraiser, I catch a glimpse of a random demon in the corner of my eye and immediately clam up. Considering demons make up ninety percent of the population, I have a mini cardiac arrest every time I set foot outside of Noelle"s place.
I know. I know. Az doesn't deserve anything from me, especially not the square footage to live rent free in my head, but I can't help it. I'm secure enough to know that whatever happened on the mountain wasn't my fault. He has some issues that he still needs to work through, but I can't stop worrying about him.
Once a bleeding heart, always a bleeding heart.
I hate the way things ended between us. And although I hate conflict with a burning passion and will do whatever I can to avoid it, a very small part of me wishes he and I could talk. That way, I could tell him that no matter what happened, I don't hate him. I'm hurt and I'm confused, but in the end it's not about me, I just want him to be happy and healthy.
Noelle roller skates into her living room while carrying a plastic container of pumpkin muffins we made last night for the other volunteers today.
"Are you sure you don't want me to give you a ride?" I ask, shaking my rental car keys in the air. Still no word on my poor little Honda. It breaks my heart thinking of my car buried under all that snow. Who knows if I'll ever see that car again.
She spins to face me with the grace of a professional ice skater, the hem of her yellow dress twirling in the air, while balancing the muffins like a 1950s carhop. "Only if you promise to stay for the festival."
"I'm staying for the fundraiser."
"No. I want you to stay all day. You worked so hard this week; you deserve to have some fun too."
"I am having fun!" I insist. It occurs to me that people who are having fun usually don't have to yell how much fun they're having. "But I really should be getting home." It's why I rented the car, after all. My plan is to help Noelle until the fundraiser is over, and then head back to Boise. Begrudgingly.
She smiles teasingly. "Why? So you can make it back to your apartment before midnight and celebrate the New Year all alone?"
I grab the bright pink daisy pillow right next to me on the couch and contemplate throwing at her, then I remember the muffins. No harm shall come to baked goods under my watch. I squeeze the obnoxiously soft pillow instead. Maybe I'll steal it when I leave. That's what she gets for patiently listening to me cry about all my problems and using her rational, thoughtful insights against me!
"You don't know that," I say primly. "I could be holding a total rager tonight."
She laughs and shakes her head before leveling a serious look at me. "Honey. Talk to me. I'm not going to pressure you to do anything you don't want to do, but is there an actual reason you don't want to stay? I understand if you're anxious to get back home."
I flop backwards on the couch and groan at the ceiling. I know she has a million things on her to-do list this morning before the fundraiser officially starts, number one being "bring her helpers muffins before they start a mutiny and kick over her booth due to hunger," and she's already running late, but she's taking time out of her busy schedule to talk to me. She's been too good to me. Seriously. I don't know where I'd be without her. I feel guilty for even thinking of stealing her pillow. Well, I still might. It's just that cute.
I don't know. Is there a reason? One more night won't hurt, and from what Noelle has told me, the Truthfire Festival sounds like a blast. The idea of staying makes me anxious. But will I feel any better being alone?
The need to be alone led me here. It's what motivated me to book that cabin. I told myself I wanted a vacation, but the truth was, I was just trying to hide from my failed marriage, all my failed relationships, my crappy job, and the very long list of all my other problems.
"I guess I'm worried about bumping into Az. He hates crowds so I have a higher chance of getting my car back tonight than bumping into him up at the festival, but even the small possibility makes me anxious. Like I'm still intruding in his space. I know I won't be able to relax at the party with all that going on in my head."
She looks thoughtful for a moment. "What if—just hear me out—you stop worrying what other people think or how they feel and do what makes you happy? So what if you bump into him? Yeah, it'll be a little awkward, but that's only if you let yourself feel that way. I promise you'll have so much fun, you won't even think about Az. The alcohol will help too," she adds with a quick wink.
I chew the inside of my cheek, processing Noelle's truthbomb. It doesn't take an expert to know I'm a people-pleaser to a fault. I'm working on it but growing up, the relationships in my life were always wavering, so when I found someone as steady as Melinda, I did everything in my power to make her happy. So she would have every reason to stay.
And when she didn't, I still went out of my way to try to make amends with her, only to have the whole thing blow up in my face.
Point is, I've spent my life caring way too much about other people's comfort. And here I am, doing the same with Az. Noelle is right—who cares if I bump into him at the festival? He can't kick me out of there too.
It'll be his problem, not mine.
When am I going to stop worrying about others and start worrying about the most important person in my life—me?
"You're right," I sigh. "I need to stop overthinking everything. I'm going to stay because I want to. Az can go kick rocks for all I care."
"Really?" She sets down the container of treats on a side table before skating over and pulling me into a big hug. I lean into her touch. I don't think there's a problem out there Noelle can't fix.
I chuckle. "Thank you! I don't know what I would have done without you. Seriously, I owe you so much."
She breaks the hug to smile down at me. "Hey, it's what friends are for."
That word makes me smile so wide; my cheeks hurt. "Crap! If I am staying for the party, I need to get ready then. I was planning on just wearing sweats to the fundraiser. But now . . ." I trail off. Good thing there's a clothing boutique down the street. I turn my eyes back to Noelle. "And you need to get going. Are you sure you don't want me to give you a ride?"
She's already on her way to the door, shrugging on a coat. "Positive. I've got a lot going on in my head. The exercise will help clear my mind." She smiles but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. Poor Noelle. She's been wearing a brave face for me but there is worry behind those eyes. Rom, her special friend (eyebrow wiggle), is still trapped on the mountain. His flight back to Texas leaves in a couple of days, and Noelle is scared that by the time they clear the road, it'll be time for him to go. Absolutely heartbreaking.
"I'm sorry, Noelle. I'm sure they'll clear the roads soon."
She lets out a shuddering sigh and nods. "I hope so too," she says quietly before leaving.
I should be exhausted by the time the fundraiser is over and the Truthfire Festival officially begins, but I'm vibrating with excitement as I wander through the crowded streets. I'm a little slap-happy because it's late and I'm tired, but who cares? I'm having fun.
I met so many people today. It felt like the entire town stopped by to sign up for the fundraiser. I even met the high school principal, Mrs. Fletcher, an elderly orc. Her entire face lit up once I told her I was a teacher.
"We always need teachers! Feel free to email me if you're ever looking for a job," she said, slipping her business card into my hand. When she walked away, I made sure to give Noelle a playful pinch. It was no coincidence that the high school principal happened to stop by during my shift.
Though I can't entirely blame Noelle for that serendipitous meeting. I've been in the city for so long, I had forgotten how fast word moves in a small town. When I went shopping earlier, the boutique owner already knew my name. She recognized me as the one who had been helping Noelle with the library fundraiser.
The small connection warmed my heart. Cities are overrated. I hadn't realized how much I longed for a tight-knit community until she said my name.
It's past midnight as I roam through the streets, pausing to admire each and every booth. Though it's dark, the entire festival is lit up by torches. All my senses are being overloaded by the lights, the sounds of merriment, and the delicious smell of fried food, but the overstimulation is a good distraction. It keeps my mind off Az.
Yeah, he would hate it here. There's no way he's showing up.
I shiver as a particularly cold breeze cuts through me. Wrapping my arms around my chest, I stay close to the torches and their warmth. Although the deep maroon velvet bodycon dress the boutique owner picked out for me is beautiful, it's not very useful for wandering the streets in the middle of winter. I pull my faux fur shawl closer around my shoulders and press on.
I lost track of Noelle a while ago. Rom showed up just as the festivities were starting, and I decided to give them space to catch up. I'm sure they're making out behind some bleachers like a pair of horny teenagers. Good for them. I even bumped into Samite. He seemed a little too distracted to talk or hang out.
Despite all my best efforts, I'm alone once again.
Guess I really do need to get used this being my new normal. It's not so bad when there are fun parties to distract you, right?
The sound of shattering glass drags my attention away from a faerie walking past on stilts. I turn and follow the sound.
Crash. Pop. I wince as more glass breaks. Someone screams in the distance, but I can"t see who they"re screaming at: "What are you doing, man? That's money you're burning!You could invest that!"
Huh. Weird. Ifollow the crowd, drawn to the commotion. We press in against a small circle of demons, craning to see what they"re seeing, but I"m too short even in my new heels.
I hear more breaking glass and the screaming turns into wailing. What's going on? Is this some religious thing, or do I need to find a police officer?
The circle opens as an elderly demon couple steps out. I move out of the way before they run me over. The woman is too busy consoling her husband to notice lil' ol' me.
"Why would he do that? He wouldn't even listen to me! I just wanted to go over a possible investment portfolio," the man cries out.
"I don't know. Cover your eyes, honey. It's better to look away," she says as she hurries him away.
I watch them disappear into the night before turning back to the crowd. I step into the gap, and as soon as I do, every muscle in my body locks up.
His name is out of my mouth before I can stop myself.
"Azgoran?"
He doesn't hear me. The crowd around him is too loud it drowns out my voice. He may be surrounded by demons, but his gaze is fixated on the fire burning inside the altar as if the crowd doesn't exist. The air is so tense in the circle, I can't catch my breath.
"All that is dark and unholy, please stop! Let's talk about this, Az. My brother is a financial advisor, and I can call him for an emergency meeting right now." the demon closest to Az says. Others are gripping their own horns in panic. The demon standing next to me is rocking back and forth on her heels while hugging her chest.
It's as if he's in a world of his own. His thick brows are furrowed and set with determination as he stares at the fire. He's holding a giant glass jar by the lip—my heart stops and starts when I realize it"s full of money—and after a moment of contemplation, he tosses the jar into the fire as smoothly as skipping rocks on a lake. I wince as the glass shatters and all the demons cry out in pain. Behind him, there's a cart brimming with glass jars, just waiting for their turn to be burned.
Mustering all my courage, I step forward. "Az?" He doesn't notice me until I place my hand on his arm.
He turns to me; his dark eyes fill with confusion as he searches the crowd. I tap him again. Down here, buddy.
His eyebrows jump when he sees me. "Holly?" He doesn't sound upset or angry that I'm here. My nerves relax just a little.
"What's going on, Az? Are you okay? Why are you burning jars of money?"
The reflection of fire dances in his intense dark eyes. His gaze dips down to take in my outfit and all my confidence quickly crumbles in a matter of seconds. I tug the shawl tighter against my skin, hiding my cleavage. I look stupid. I see that now. I shouldn't have wasted my money on such a fancy dress.
Az's throat bobs. When his eyes snap back to mine, and he says in a strained voice, "Holly, you look fucking magnificent. Are you wearing red?"
I blush, fidgeting with my shawl again. "Maroon, but yeah."
He gives a short nod. "It suits you."
"Az, what's going on?"
It feels like ages before he tears his gaze away from mine and glances at the cart full of money as if he forgot it was there. "Oh. Right. That."
Studying him closer, there are dark bags under his eyes and the stubble around his jaw looks darker. He doesn't look like he's been sleeping well. His skin and clothes are caked with dirt. Poor guy. He's wearing his typical work clothes—flannel and jeans. Az is handsome no matter what he wears but compared to all the other surrounding demons in their stylish threads, he sticks out like a sore thumb. They would have no idea how much money he had if it wasn't for the jars. Or how much money he had, if he continues with all this burning nonsense.
"I was just taking care of some things," he gestures broadly at the cart, "before I brought you your car."
"My car?"
He fishes a pair of keys out of his pocket and drops them in my hands. I run my finger over the "Ms. Harper" beaded keychain a student gave me before Christmas break. All the tension in my body dissipates. My car is here. Which means it's working. Oh thank goodness.
I tilt my head to the side. "Why are you burning all your money? I mean, it's your money, you're allowed to do whatever you want with it. But is everything okay?"
Az opens his mouth and then closes it once he remembers we have an audience. He surveys the crowd with narrowed eyes. Not disdainfully but with a "Do you mind?" sort of look. They don't mind because no one moves. He huffs and turns his attention back to me. "Can we go somewhere to talk privately?" He growls out the last word at the audience. No one in the circle catches the hint.
I take a step back, my shoulders sagging. This is what I wanted, right? To talk to him, but suddenly I feel very apprehensive. "I don't know, Az."
He really hurt my feelings—
"Holly. Please." He reaches out and snatches my hand, refusing to let me walk away. I close my eyes. His hands are so warm; I can feel that extra big callus on his palm. Oh, how I've missed touching him. When I open my eyes, he's kneeling in front of me, his brows push together in worry.
He brushes his thumb along the top of my hand. "I know I don't deserve anything, not after how I acted," he whispers, "but please, all I ask for is one minute. That's it. Then I will leave you alone forever, I promise."