Chapter 228: Chapter 229 Post-coital Face

‘Coincidentally, yes. But that’s not the point. If you don’t want the psychic, at least go for the view. Her shop’s in Elmridge, near The Skyveil Trail. It’s a tourist spot. Waterfalls, woods, vineyards, the whole thing. Google it.’

I did after we hung up.

Apparently, it was more than just a trail.

There was Skyveil Falls, Echo Grove, The Overlook at Dusk, Pine & Pour Taproom, Old Bramble Farm.

And a whole street packed with psychics, tarot readers, crystal shops, energy healing pop-ups.

In the Instagram pics, half the town looked like a glittery fever dream.

I scrolled through a few posts.

Reviews mentioned the air smelling clean, the quiet, the food trucks.

It wouldn’t kill me to get out of the city for two days.

Even if I skipped the psychic, I could at least eat a decent lunch and stare at a tree for once.

I started looking at hotels.

And I kept looking after dinner.

Ashton tilted his head from the far end of the couch. ‘You’re going to Elmridge?’

‘Yeah. Just for a few days.’

He straightened. ‘I’m coming too.’

‘Absolutely not.’ I locked my phone and headed upstairs. ‘You’re staying here.’

I made it halfway up before he caught me from behind.

One arm around my waist, then both feet off the ground.

‘Ashton! Put me down!’

‘No.’

He carried me straight towards the bedroom. ‘You’re trying to ditch me. That’s what this is.’

Yeah, but I wasn’t stupid enough to admit it out loud. ‘I already made plans with Yvaine. Road trip, just the two of us.’

‘Yvaine’s going?’

‘Yes. She wants some kind of psychic reading. She’s looking for a good luck charm for her boyfriend.’

‘Cade?’

‘Yup. I figured I’d check it out too, see if the woman’s actually psychic or just stoned.’

I wrapped my arms around his neck.

His skin was warm from the couch blanket, faintly lemony.

His jaw was still unshaven from this morning and a little scratchy against my cheek.

He reached the bed and sat down, pulling me into his lap.

I ended up straddling him without much of a say.

‘Since when do you care about psychics?’

‘Since my studio got wrecked twice in one week. We’re both starting to think it’s cursed. I thought, why not? You’ve got meetings all week anyway. It’s not like you’ll be bored.’

He didn’t look thrilled. ‘So Yvaine’s boyfriend gets a good luck charm... and I don’t?’

‘You want one?’

‘If it’s from you.’

I leaned forward and kissed the corner of his mouth. ‘I’ll buy you the most expensive one she’s got.’

Ashton slid his hand around the back of my neck and kissed me harder.

‘How long are you gone for?’ he asked once we both got our breath back.

‘Three days.’

‘When are you leaving?’

‘Day after tomorrow. Morning.’

He shifted his grip to my waist and pushed me down flat against the mattress.

‘Then I better make up for the three days’ lost time in advance.’

The next morning, I didn’t get out of bed.

On the day of departure, I was supposed to meet Yvaine at nine.

I showed up half an hour late, walking like my joints had been replaced with chewed gum.

It took five hours to get to Elmridge.

We were using Yvaine’s car and agreed to split the drive.

She volunteered to take the first half, but not until she’d finished laughing at my... what she called my ‘post-coital face’.

I didn’t even know that was a thing.

‘Sure it is,’ she said. ‘Droopy eyelids, swollen lips, legs like baby Bambi’s, and that weird, blissed-out smile.’

‘I’m just excited about the trip,’ I said.

‘Sure you are.’

Her good mood lasted until we reached The PanContinental.

A porter was waiting at the front door, but so was Cassian Langford.

‘You told him?’ Yvaine turned towards me, suspicious.

‘No.’ But I told Ashton about the trip, and he might have blabbed to Cassian because, for reasons I couldn’t understand, he still considered the man a friend.

To make up for my indiscretion, I volunteered to get rid of Cassian for her.

Yvaine shook her head. ‘Never mind. Just ignore him.’

And she did.

Cassian didn’t get within six feet of Yvaine, who was flanked by a porter on one side and me on the other.

The porter was stocky, and I knew how to box.

***

Yvaine knocked before my alarm even buzzed.

She’d already pulled her hair into a ponytail and had a map open on her phone.

‘We’ve got to head out early if we want clean shots and no Cassian,’ she said, shoving the screen in front of me.

It showed the trailhead for Skyveil and a long line of starred pins.

‘We stop here for photos,’ she said, tapping the first pin. ‘Then here for the view. By noon we hit the summit.’

‘Copy that.’

We hit the hotel buffet before eight.

I’d just refilled my plate when I heard the screech of a chair behind me.

Yvaine jerked forward, her stomach thudding into the table’s edge.

I turned around.

Some grubby little brat had shoulder-checked Yvaine from behind.

He was five or six, maybe, probably hopped up on syrup.

Two adults who might be his parents sat one table over.

Neither looked up, nor appeared to care.

The kid kicked Yvaine’s chair, laughed, then reached for her bag on the seat beside her.

I circled around, stepped up to the adults’ table. ‘Mind watching your kid?’

The woman glanced up. ‘Yeah, sure.’

Then she went right back to her plate.

The kicking didn’t stop.

I raised my voice. ‘Your son’s been booting my friend’s chair for five minutes and just tried to tear her bag apart. You’re really not going to say anything?’

Yvaine yanked her bag off the chair, held up the flap.

The clasp was hanging loose.

She scowled. ‘This was custom. He nearly snapped it in half.’

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