Page 55 of The Little Shop of Grand Curiosities

“Apollo,” Nepheli called after me, but I didn’t respond.

I stepped outside. Dragonflies glittered in the leaves of the trees and in the tall ferns and in the basil bushes, their wings sparkling like the distant lights of a city. The underbrush was still soggy from the rain, and the air smelled of petrichor and pine. And the night? The night was neither empty nor lightless, after all.

It was hazy with stars, stars, stars.

Suddenly, I was twelve years old again, tucked into my childhood bed and gazing at the glistening spatter of stars across my ceiling as I waited for them to twinkle me to sleep. But sleep would not come, so I would tiptoe my way to my telescope, thrilled and impatient, my hand too small for the focuser and my eye too eager for the eyepiece. And there the stars would be—slipped off my ceiling and into the sky, free in their true,glorious forms.

???

When I got back inside, Nepheli was lying on her side with her hands between her knees. Serene, with her eyes shut.

I sat down next to her. “Nepheli?” I whispered. “Are you asleep?” She didn’t budge. As delicately as I could, I took a lock that had escaped her braid between my fingertips and brushed it aside. It was soft. As soft as her heart. “You want to know a secret?” I said quietly, the words choking me on their way out. “I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean any of it. I don’t think you’re silly. I think you’re lovely. I think you’re smart and funny and interesting, and terribly kind. You’relovely. And I am so horribly, thoroughlyunlovelythat I don’t know what to do with myself around you. You’ve no idea how much I wish I was just a normal man who walked into a random Shop one day and met this brilliant woman. He thought she was clever and pretty, and way too good for him. But he was young and impulsive, and asked her out on a date anyway, thinking that nothing too bad could come out of it. And somehow, the stars aligned, and she said yes. And they went on that date, and they talked and laughed and kissed until their lips were numb, and thanked the fates for their good luck—oh, how lucky they were to have found each other. It’s outrageous, isn’t it? How can someone’s life change so irrevocably in the span of a single day? And you know that nothing will ever be the same for them from now on. Because now they’ve learned each other’s faces. Now they’ve held hands. Now they’ve whispered promises in the dark. Now they’ve dreamt next to each other, woke up next to each other.” I tried to swallow, but something tremendous was stuck in my throat, and the next words were hardly more than a whisper. “But I am not a normal man. I’m not someone who can experience all this loveliness again. What I’m trying to say, Nepheli… is that I’m sorry. For what I said. For making you feel like that. I’m sorry for the mess. I’m sorry for barging into your life only to disarray it so thoughtlessly. But I am mostly sorry that I can’tfeelsorry. Truly, deeply sorry. Because you deserve that. Gods know you deserve it.”

I didn’t feel unburdened by my confession. In fact, by the time I lay down next to her and started drifting off to sleep, I felt hollower than ever.

17

Nepheli

You’re lovely. And I am so horribly, thoroughly unlovely that I don’t know what to do with myself around you.

I woke up numb from confusion. My body ached from having slept on the hard ground all night, and my head felt like a nest of wasps, endlessly buzzing and swarming.

I had only pretended to be asleep last night because I’d been angry and hurt and disappointed that Apollo hadn’t even bothered to apologize, let alone admit that his behavior at Walder’s had been nothing but a cheap act, and I’d been determined not to entertain him in pointless conversation any longer and just get some much-needed rest.

But now… What was I supposed to do now? Act as though I hadn’t heard any of it? As though his words, genuine or not, hadn’t made my blood sing and my heart skip as if it wanted to leave my body? As though I hadn’t wanted to turn around, open my eyes, and confess too:I know you didn’t mean those things you said at Walder’s. But they still hurt me. They hurt me because I’m afraid that they’re true. I’m terrified that I will never be good enough for anyone. I’m scared of going forward. I’m scared of going back. I feel suspended between time and space, floating in an arbitrary in-between. Here. With you. I kind of hate you for using my insecurities against me. I kind of can’t take my eyes off of you either. I kind of want to never see your stupid face again. I kind of want you to kiss me, touch me, make me feel…everything. Because I know you can. I know you can revive me as easily as you can break me.

Was I supposed to say that? Was I supposed to make a fool of myself again just so he could have the satisfaction of belittling me under the pretense of doing it for my own good?

No. No, I was smarter than this.

My back made a horriblecrackas I propped on one elbow. Apollo was sleeping right next to me, or I should rather say rightbehindme, as the curve of my backside was pressed to his groin. He had his hand loosely flung around my waist, and as I moved, it slipped lower, down to my stomach. He pulled me closer in his sleep, letting out a low, almost guttural sound. A delirious sort of pressure built inside me, a craving unsatisfied. I wanted to push back against his hardness. I wanted his hand lower on my body. I wanted him to soothe the ache between my thighs. And I knew he could. I knew that those beautiful, big hands of his could do the most marvelous, filthy—

Gods, what was I thinking?

I pulled out of his embrace and sat up with a gasp. Mercifully, he didn’t wake up. The tide of his breathing was still calm and oblivious as I watched him closely. He had a tiny bump on the bridge of his nose, a small birthmark on the underside of his square jaw, and a faded childhood scar above his left dark brow. I drowned in his perfect imperfections.

Apollo was so, so beautiful. Beautiful, like neck kisses and midnight storms. Beautiful, like the fun kind of secrets. Beautiful, like summer sunsets and unexpected romances.

His long, feathery eyelashes fluttered behind a few messy locks. He blinked, frowned, then very slowly withdrew his hand from my stomach and folded it behind his head as he turned on his back.

“Hello,” he rasped, his voice exquisitely harsh and a little roguish. He looked like a debauched rake after a sinful night in the woods with some no-longer-chaste maiden—hair ruffled, shirt half-undone, eyes drowsy and dark.

“Hello,” I said a little timorously. “Did I make too much noise and wake you up?”

He shook his head. “Just felt you pull out of my arms. You started shivering in your sleep last night. That’s why I… I don’t want you to think—”

“It’s okay,” I reassured. “It was a cold night.”

“Are you feeling sick?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Good.” His eyes trailed to my throat. “The mark has almost faded too.”

“I don’t want another one,” I deadpanned, and it shocked me how much of a lie it was. All I could think about now was his mouth on my neck, his teeth grazing that tender spot, his tongue soothing it over, making me teeter on the edge between pleasure and pain—me,who always preferred gentle kisses and even gentler touches.

Apollo had asked me last night if I missed Ryker, but the truth was, I didn’t miss much from my life in Elora apart from the Shop. Yes, sometimes I regretted that I hadn’t left Elora with him, but that had nothing to do with Ryker, really. And as for right now, I didn’t seem to want gentle anymore. I wanted reckless. Deep, deep down, I thought I wanted to break a little just to have an excuse to build myself anew.

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