Page 36 of Stolen Love

“I’m still at Mojito.” Behind my bestie, the dressing room is a bustling hive of activity. “I can’t get away. Do you want to meet me here? Or do you want me to come over after the club closes?”

The conversation we need to have is going to be a hard one. I’m not sure how he’ll take it. But I can’t put it off. Not when we only have five days up our sleeve. “We’ll come to you.”

After a quick detour to pick up a pregnancy test, we arrive to find Mojito closed. One of the queens unlocks the door and we slip into the main room where the waitstaff are prepping tables and restocking the bar. The club won’t open until later this afternoon and by then it will be magical as it always is.

We follow the sound of laughter and witty jibes that are being tossed back and forth in the crowded dressing rooms. God, I miss this place. It feels like so long since we’ve been here but it’s only been weeks. Before I got so sick. When I still believed Rogue and I were already married.

“There’s our bride-to-be,” Magnolia Clitterbean announces when he sees me. He exaggerates a wink with his sky high faux lashes. “And our hunka hunka burning love.”

“Hey.” Rogue acknowledges them with a nod.

“I don’t know whether you’re channelling Elvis or gonorrhea.” Adira elbows Magnolia in the ribs on his way to us. “You said you needed to talk.”

I glance down the hallway toward his dressing room. “It’s kind of private.”

“Ah, so it is gonorrhea,” Ivanna Bey Yulava says.

“They’re in fine form today.” Adira shakes his head as he wraps his arm around my shoulder and escorts us toward his private room. “I heard about your friend. I’m so sorry. Are they looking at it as suspect, do you know?”

“They haven’t said either way,” Rogue says. “But we know better.”

“Oh really?” Adira’s voice lowers as his gaze ping pongs between us.

“This isn’t the kind of conversation we want overheard.” I indicate the room in front of us.

“In we go then.” Adira herds us inside.

Once we’re enclosed in his dressing room, racks upon racks of costumes surrounding us on three sides, Adira sits on the stool in front of his favorite makeup station. “Want to fill me in? I’m assuming this Marty news is what couldn’t wait?”

I pluck at the bottom of my sweater sleeve as Rogue leans against the other vanity. He looks so good there. Edible, with his hip wide stance and his fingers wrapped around the edge of the table. Under other circumstances…

My Rapunzel wig flows down my back to my heels. It’s full of tiny flowers. And he is looking at me like he isn’t sure whether to believe his eyes as I get on my knees in front of him.

“Princess? Uma?” He grips onto the edge of the vanity until his knuckles turn white. “Are you sure?”

My reaction is visceral. My mouth waters and my nipples tighten.

“Ivy?” Rogue’s eyes are narrowed, as though he’s confused.

If that was a fantasy… why Rapunzel? Why not The Little Mermaid? Wait. What? No. Why? Why is that who I think of? I’m a bunny through and through. Unless… did that really happen? I gasp as my knees buckle and I almost fall into a costume rack.

Rogue leaps up and grabs my waist. “Are you okay?”

It felt so… “Uh-huh.”

He presses his palm to my forehead. “You sure?”

“You looked like you were going to pass dead away,” Adira says.

“I’m fine.” I grip Rogue’s forearm to steady myself. The imagery was so vivid. Could it have been a memory? “Seriously.”

“Is that why you have a death grip on my arm?” He peers into my eyes like he’s looking for answers. “Let me take you home.”

I drop my hand to my side. “Not until we tell Adira everything.”

Adira raises an eyebrow. “That sounds dire. And considering the hell we’ve been through these last few days…”

“It’s worse.”

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