“Never.”
“Then why start now?”
“You make a good point.”
“Seriously, he hates hearing about you going on dates. It always seems to take him a step closer to asking you out, but he never does.” Harper pursed her lips. “I can only assume he has commitment issues or something.”
“He’s not the only one.” Devon threw a meaningful look at Khloé.
“I don’t have commitment issues, I just avoid relationships,” said Khloé. “And for good reason.”
Raini looked upward. “Oh, don’t start with that whole ‘my family is cursed’ thing again.”
“It’s true,” Khloé insisted. “My maternal line is cursed to live alone. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
Raini folded her arms. “That makes sense to you? Really?”
Khloé tapped her foot. “I looked up my family’s history. My great-great-great-great grandmother Irene once pissed off a female incantor by fucking the woman’s mate. It’s only been since then that every female member of my mother’s line has grown old alone. None of them have taken mates; none have even found themselves in a long-term relationship. There must be a curse at work. And so, like my other maternal female relatives, I am doomed to grow old and die alone.”
“Or maybe there is no curse, and you’re just wacked,” said Devon.
Khloé scowled. “I can’t believe you’d even suggest that.”
Harper put a hand on her back. “I think you just have no faith in relationships. Why would you? Neither of your parents know a thing about healthy, functional relationships.”
“My dad and Meredith are doing okay,” Khloé pointed out.
“Yeah, he got there eventually.” The sphinx shrugged. “Maybe you will too, one day.”
“No, I’m too busy paying for Irene’s fuck-up, like the rest of my maternal relatives.”
“Is that what your fictional Aunt Mildred told you?” asked Devon.
“I can’t believe you don’t remember her.” Khloé planted her hands on her hips. “Come on, think back. She had a limp. Carried a cane everywhere. Always wore black. And she had that rash on her hands that—”
“Stop,” the hellcat burst out. “Just stop.”
“Fine.” Khloé pulled a dress of the rack. “Where’s the fitting room?”
CHAPTER FIVE
Friday morning, Keenan shoved open the door of his apartment building and strode outside, heading for the parking lot. He needed to collect Khloé and Raini and drive them to the airport, where his Primes’ private jet was waiting to fly them to the yacht.
He wasn’t looking forward to the trip. And yet he was.
Being in close proximity to Khloé for three whole days wouldn’t be easy—she could push his buttons like no one else, and he was sure she’d give him a stomach ulcer sooner or later. But she also made him feel more alive than anyone had in a very long time. Their verbal spars sometimes felt like foreplay.
He wondered if she’d yet begun to realize that she’d made a mistake in ignoring his insistence that he wasn’t an alcoholic. He could honestly say that he hadn’t once been tempted to reach for his flask. Especially since his reward would be a taste of what he’d been craving for years. A reward he could claim in just three days if he managed to hold out.
Feeding from her just once could be enough to weaken the chemistry that pulsed between them. He’d spent so long imagining how she tasted that he’d built it up in his head. The reality couldn’t possibly match the fantasy, could it? He’d for sure feel disappointed to some degree, and that would—
“Keenan?”
He froze. He knew that voice far too well. It brought back so many memories—some good, some bad. And it made his demon bare his teeth.
He slowly turned. A tall brunette stood a few feet away from him, her hand clasped around that of a small boy. Thea. He knew by the slight glow to their faces that they were currently wearing “glamor masks.” He couldn’t see the masks, due to his ability to see through glamor, so he couldn’t be sure what she’d look like to those who didn’t possess that ability.
She offered Keenan a shaky, tentative smile, clearly unsure of her welcome. She shouldn’t be unsure. He’d made it clear through Knox that he had no wish to talk to her. It wasn’t a complicated concept.
He didn’t hate Thea, though he’d tried to. He just didn’t want his past to invade his present. Nor did he like being reminded of his mistakes. Placing his trust in her had definitely been a mistake.
Her tongue darted out and nervously swiped over her lower lip. He’d kissed that mouth more times than he could count. She was still beautiful. But she didn’t hold the same appeal for him that she once had. Maybe because she’d stomped on his trust. Or maybe because another female occupied his thoughts these days.
His demon sniffed, unaffected by her beauty. It had slammed a mental door on her long ago, and it had no time or patience for her.