18. FAE SMUT

FAE SMUT

" C an't believe you went to that guy's house without me," Jess reprimanded, referring to Andras.

"In retrospect, I'd probably wait for you if I had to do it again so it doesn't look like I'm fucking him." I sighed.

"I hate Bethany," Jess grumbled, taking a huge bite of her strawberry croissant, pausing for a heartbeat to scan the coffee shop from the table where we sat. "And I hate that she's so awful that I have to hate her. Women supporting women, and all that, but it's impossible with her. I didn't think she was all that great back when we were kids, but I swear, puberty made her actually evil."

"I blame her parents. Mom and Dad were bonkers, but they never tried to turn us against anyone."

Jess raised an eyebrow, "Mom and Dad?"

"Okay, they did, but her parents must have held a brainwashing meeting that included a ten-year plan for all the ways she should terrorize us."

I exhaled and rolled my shoulders back. The barista, a pretty blonde woman with a nose ring, set a latte down in front of me. I nodded a thank you.

"I feel like I'm being stalked," I said, taking a drink from the blue mug, savoring the vanilla-flavored foam of the oat milk. "And actually, I keep getting this feeling that I'm being watched. Even before the break-in."

"You are being stalked. These bitches have nothing better to do than meddle in everyone else's lives. And the funniest part is that it's not like Bethany's life is picture perfect–fuck, we know that better than anyone growing up across the street from her," Jess shook her head. "None of them have perfect lives, so they've got some nerve judging everyone else." She pressed her lips together tightly for a beat. "Do you know who took the photo?"

"I mean, there's only one person it could be. Kim is the only one who lives in our neighborhood–everyone else lives on the hill."

"Kim, huh?"

"Kim," I shrugged. "Such a bummer, too. She didn't seem so bad."

"People will do crazy shit to be accepted, Danny. I mean, not us–we seem to enjoy being outcasts. But everyone else likes to be liked."

I huffed a laugh.

Jess cocked her head, her glossy bob glistening under the cafe lights, "It's true, you know," she added, adjusting her blazer.

"You look nice," I complimented her. My sister was forever a beauty, timeless but modern and quirky all at the same time. She'd basically worn a uniform all her life, first in Catholic school, and then she created a sort of business casual uniform for the rest of her life: blouse, blazer, and slacks–what she had referred to as Queer Professional in high school. And damn, did she make it her brand and pull it off every day for a decade.

"Thank you. I like your outfit, too." She said, eyeing my jeans and sweater, "especially the oxfords with the ankle socks."

"Mersi," I said, thanking her in Persian.

She winked, then asked, "What's the plan for Bethany?"

"I don't know. Hex her?"

"Hasn't worked in the past," Jess said casually.

I frowned, "Can't tell if you're joking or not?"

She shrugged and popped the last of her croissant into her mouth, and I wondered what in the hell she'd tried to do to Bethany. Jess glanced at the clock on the wall and stood up, gathering her keys, wallet, and phone into her leather tote bag. She leaned down to kiss me on my cheeks: right, left, right, three times, the way Persians do.

"Meeting with a professor about my dissertation, gotta run. Then I have a date," she bemoaned. "But I'm sorry again, about everything. I know you're going through so much right now, and I'm here for you. Always."

I waved her away, "I know. Love you."

Pulling a spicy novel, which could easily have passed for Fae porn, from my bag, I got cozy in my chair. I should have been grocery shopping, cleaning, and completing all manner of menial adult tasks while the girls were at school, but I'd decided to take a half day to have coffee with my sister, whine about the assholes I'd had the recent displeasure of dealing with, and read for pleasure in this cozy coffee shop. I cracked the spine, leaned back, and let myself be swept into a magical world that no longer seemed all that far-fetched. If vampires were real, all bets were off. For all I knew, this godsdamn book in my hands full of fae lords fucking their partners to the hilt might not be fiction at all. Could be a High Fae memoir. "Rhysand, Unveiled."

The book hooked me right away, pulling me into its action-packed plot of shadows, romance, and fate. I didn't notice the man standing next to me with arms crossed, simpering, until he tapped me lightly on the shoulder. I whirled in my seat, eyes snapping up to Andras looking down at me with eyebrows raised. I exhaled loudly, my shoulders relaxing a little.

"Good book?" he asked. "Do you mind?" He reached over and turned it to see the cover. He pressed his lips together, trying to stifle a laugh.

"I see."

I rolled my eyes.

"Yes, it has plenty of that in it."

"Yeah, I know. It's very good."

He flashed a knowing smile.

My curiosity was piqued.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I can't remember if I told you or not, but I edit books. Mostly nonfiction, but commercial fiction and such, too. I'm friends with the woman who edited this particular book" he tapped the cover with his finger. "She said she had to commit herself to many cold showers to get through it. And apparently, she broke more than one vibrator. So, naturally, I had to read the entire series. Big fan." He smirked, "You'll be surprised to find out who the main character ends up with in the end."

The man never ceased to surprise me and I couldn't help but love that about him.

"Well, I guess we have Fae smut in common. And it sounds like I have a lot to look forward to," I said, tilting the book to examine the girth.

"May I sit?" he asked, chin dipping towards the empty seat at my table.

"Oh, Gods. Uhm, shit. Sure, but I have to tell you something, and maybe you won't want to stay long after."

"Well, that doesn't sound good," he said, sliding elegantly into the chair.

"So," I cleared my throat, "apparently someone saw me leaving your house, I think the same person who also saw us talking at Blotto that one time and blabbed it to everyone."

I winced, "How pissed are you?"

"At them? A lot."

"At me?"

"You? Not at all. It's not your fault, Danny."

"Hmm."

"She sent the picture to this woman, Bethany, who is like my arch nemesis. It's a long, boring story, but essentially our parents spent the better part of a decade suing each other over community guidelines in Cherry Hill. It's some twisted, modern-day Capulet and Montague shit that I don't even want to get into because it's humiliating and gross. But Bethany sent the picture to my husband. Or ex-husband, or whatever. He seems to believe you and I are having an affair."

Andras frowned. A pause while his jaw worked.

"Hmm."

"Yeah."

The corners of Andras's lips kicked up slowly into a wicked grin, "I mean, I'm not opposed to having an affair with you."

My lower stomach fluttered. But I put on a big show of groaning and rolling my eyes, rocking back in my chair as the perfect picture of cool disinterest.

"I'm sure you have plenty of folks already warming your bed at night."

"I do," he said, flashing that cocky grin. "And yes, I know you're not interested, and I don't want to be beaten with a wine bottle again anytime soon, so…"

I put my hand on my chest in mock horror. He nodded at me as if to say, yeah, you, exactly . He inhaled sharply and tapped his fingertips quietly on the table.

"I don't like someone watching my house and taking photos for obvious reasons," he said flatly.

"Yeah. I figured as much."

A couple of young women sat next to us, pausing their conversation briefly to stare, or rather gawk, at Andras. If he noticed, he didn't let on, but I imagined that being drooled over was a daily sort of thing for him and probably had been for a long time. Fuck, centuries. Centuries! A part of me felt smug to be sitting with him, to even be friends (if that's what we were becoming) with this striking man. I knew his secret, his world-altering, incomprehensible secret. I wondered what the young women would do if they knew the truth.

Andras rested his forearms on the table. He angled his head in question.

"You're lost in thought again. Everything alright?"

"Yeah," I breathed.

He studied my face for a moment, and I could have sworn he was scenting the air, too. He subtly perked up an ear as if he was trying to smell the lie, searching my body for telltale signs of upset: a racing heart, a chemical change. Weird. I'd ask him about it later when we didn't have a table of fangirls hanging on his every word.

"So," he began, "what are you going to do about this awful person?"

"I don't know. Nothing. Something. What is there to do?"

A barista swung by and set down a mug of black coffee in front of Andras, who smiled up at him.

"Thank you," he said, sincerely.

"Coffee, huh?" I asked.

"It's not my drink of choice," a wink, "but I do enjoy it."

He took a small sip and set down the mug with preternatural grace.

"You could poison her," he resumed. "I mean, that's how important families used to settle this kind of thing back in my day."

"Hilarious," I deadpanned.

He shrugged.

For over a decade, I'd fantasized about myriad ways to get back at Bethany for her bullshit. Like when she told everyone in Miss Laru's chem class that my dad haunted, yes haunted , our house after his death. Or when she told my ninth-grade boyfriend that I was a witch who summoned demons on the regular and had been possessed multiple times (laughable, when you don't go to a private Catholic school), and he stopped speaking to me overnight. Or in seventh grade, when our poodle died, and she told everyone that my sister had killed Tom-Tom in a fit of rage. I'd daydreamed about getting even but never did. It just never seemed worth it. I didn't really care what other people thought enough back then to take action, plus I had Jess, Samantha, and Sebastian to soften her blows. Now that I was in my thirties, petty gossip and revenge seemed absolutely fucking ridiculous and I couldn't understand for the life of me how my parents and Bethany's parents had spent so much time as adults plotting to fuck each other over. But Bethany had gone too far this time. Revenge would be had.

"You sure you're alright?" Andras pressed, reaching out to tap my hand.

"Yeah. Just trying to sort all of this shit out in my head."

"You know, in my experience, she's probably just trying to hide from her own problems by casting the spotlight on yours. Maybe she's a hoarder"

"Of what? Rat turds? Actually, I could picture it. They'll write about it in her obituary one day."

Andras perked up.

I rolled my eyes, "Like in a long time when she dies from old age. Not right now."

He waved me off.

"Here lies Bethany Nilsen and her menagerie of shit."

"Bethany…Nilsen," Andras repeated, narrowing his eyes.

"Do you know her?"

"No, not at all. But…"

Andras clasped his hands together, grinning with evil delight like a Bond villain.

I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously.

"What is that look? You look like you're plotting . Don't plot. I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm a grown-ass woman, and I can handle this by myself."

He huffed a breath and leaned into the table to close some of the distance between us, his expression sober.

"No doubt you can handle it alone, love. But you shouldn't always have to," he whispered.

Something in my chest cracked open at that. I couldn't think of anything to say, so I just offered a warm smile.

We said goodbye at the cafe door and parted ways. I plodded through the newly fallen snow towards my car parked a block away, turning only once to glance back at Andras, crouched down on the sidewalk to hand a stack of money to a homeless woman wrapped in a dusty pink blanket.

I tossed and turned in bed that night, alone, the house quiet and dark. Steven had resumed sleeping in the guest house, and while it was close, every sound and shadow rattled me. My phone buzzed. The too-bright screen blinded me temporarily, but once my eyes adjusted, I could make out enough to see that I'd received a text from an unknown number. Assuming it was going to be some aggressive reminder about the various volunteer opportunities at Liv and Ria's school, I almost shoved the phone under my pillow. I didn't need one more thing bouncing around in my head. Then again, I wasn't sleeping anyway, so why not? I tapped the screen. The message opened to a single image that was hard to make out until I expanded it. I gasped. Clear as day, I could see a blonde woman with long hair dangling out of a window in the freezing cold, wearing nothing but her underwear and snow boots. I knew that window. It was around the corner, right across from Andras's house. I knew that hair and body, too.

Bethany. Bethany looked like she'd been caught in the middle of something indecent and tried to flee the scene in secret without enough time to fully dress. I gasped. No way! Holy shit! I couldn't believe it.

"Is Bethany having an affair with Kim's husband?" I asked the anonymous number that I deduced belonged to Andras.

"Close. But no, he actually just got home, and then Bethany launched herself from the window. I'm guessing that she's having an affair with Kim . At least now you know why she's obsessed with finding dirt on you."

What! I sat the phone down and covered my mouth. A very cruel part of me wanted to destroy her, to blow up the picture of her dangling out of the window and put it on a fucking billboard. However, an affair with Kim? No matter how much I wanted to throttle her, I wouldn't out her. That was her secret to keep. But it might have been the leverage I needed to get her out of my life for good, so I hatched a plan in the lamplight, like a supervillain. I couldn't risk confronting her in person in case someone overheard. So instead, I'd wait until she'd dropped her son off at school and pulled away, alone in her blinding white SUV. Then I'd send her this picture and tell her that it was time to stop this fucking madness. And that's exactly what I did the following school day.

I sent the message and watched her slam on her brakes a moment later, nearly hitting the curb. Bubbles started and stopped on my screen. They started and stopped again. And again. And again. Finally, the word "Okay" appeared. Then her SUV lurched forward, taking her and her secrets with it.