Stopping Time and Old Habits (Wicked Lovely 2.50)

“And then a few grand gestures since I wasn’t noticing?” Niall laughed. “Give me a court. Give me a way to be with Leslie….”

Irial shrugged. “Some people like grand gestures.”

“I noticed the smaller ones too,” Niall admitted.

Without letting himself think on it too much, Irial leaned in and brushed his lips over Niall’s. It was no more than a feather touch, but he felt both of their hearts race. He stepped away. “Go see her.”

Niall reached out as if he’d touch Irial, but he didn’t close the distance. “Move back into the house?”

Irial stilled. “Into…?”

“Your old room. Not mine.” Niall did reach out then. He put his hand on Irial’s arm. “I can’t offer more, but…”

The hope and fear inside the Dark King were dizzying. It was enough that Irial wasn’t sure which answer Niall really wanted. Neither is he.

“Come home?” Niall added.

Irial pressed another kiss, no longer than the last, to Niall’s lips. Then, he pushed him gently away. “Go to her. She needs to be reminded that she is loved.”

Niall didn’t move, so Irial started walking back toward Leslie’s building. He made it several yards before Niall joined him. They walked in silence until they were almost at the door.

“You could take the court back,” Niall said. “I’d give it to you.”

“Then neither of you would be able to have what you need.” Irial frowned. “And it’s not best for the court.”

“If you weren’t addictive—”

“I’d still be unhealthy for her.” Irial shoved him gently toward the building.

Niall didn’t press the button. He lifted his hand, stopped, and lowered it. “Will you be at the house?”

“Yes.” Then Irial walked away.

Leslie paced in her apartment. Some tendril of the vine that connected her to Irial still lived. It wasn’t the thing that stole her emotions; it was almost an extra sense that allowed her to taste others’ emotions—and to get glimpses of Irial’s feelings sometimes.

She knew that he was with Niall: his feelings for Niall were always amplified.

Like mine.

She looked out her front window again. If Irial was with Niall, that meant Niall was near. If he was near…She pushed the thought away. Him, she could speak to. Not that I should. With Irial, she had difficulty not simply throwing herself into his arms and letting go. She let herself be near him, but they didn’t speak. Talking to Irial would be the first step in not-talking, and mortals who lay down with Gancanaghs became addicted. Unfortunately, knowing that didn’t remove the temptation. Knowing didn’t help her forget how much pleasure she’d felt when he held her. Her relationship with Niall, on the other hand, had never reached that place, so…

Who am I kidding? She snorted at the rationalization she was indulging in: she shouldn’t be alone with either of them. It was why she didn’t talk to Irial. It was why she didn’t accept five out of six of Niall’s calls.

The buzzer for the downstairs door rang. She pushed the speaker on, knowing full well who was there.

“Leslie?”

For a moment, she couldn’t speak, but then she asked, “Are you alone?”

“Right now, I am…. Can I come up?”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Can you come down?”

“I shouldn’t either.” She’d already had her shoes on, though, and she grabbed her keys from the hook by the door.

She saw him watching her through the front door of the building as she came down the s