“He sings in the shower.”
“What does he sing?”
“Showtunes, according to Monty. He’s actually kind of good.”
“So … you’re taking showers with him?”
“What? No!” Iris just hoped her sister didn’t pick up on the slight hysterical edge to her voice. She really didn’t need anyone else to know that she spent a lot of time thinking about Finn in the shower. Naked. Soap running down those … no. Nope. Her mind could not go there. “But the sound carries through the apartment.”
“You know what I think?”
“What?”
“That you are going to totally fall in love with your fiancé.”
“What? No. Absolutely not. That is never going to happen.”
“Oh, come on. I don’t think I know anyone who wants to fall in love as much as you do.”
“I do. More than anything. Which is why I am trying to get Finn to break off our engagement, so I can find my true love.”
“Would it be so horrible for your true love to be Finn?”
“Of—”
“Barnacles! Mother is calling me. I have to hide this shellphone before she comes in. But call me back, okay?”
Iris wiped a tear off her cheek. “Absolutely.”
“Love you bigger than the ocean,” Shelly said. The call dropped before Iris could offer her little sister the same sentiment.
Iris took a few moments to collect herself before she made her way back up to the penthouse. She wasn’t sure if the call had healed or hurt. On the one hand, hearing from her sister felt like getting a part of herself back. On the other, it was just a reminder of everything she was losing by continuing to be on the surface. Her sisters, sure, and her mother. More than that, though, the familiar sights, sounds, the vastness of the ocean, hertail.
The surface wasn’t all bad. There was a lot of freedom on land. In the city, there were no royal duties, no endless, soul-sucking meetings, no speeches she needed to prepare, nothing to study. Her time, for the first time in her life, was her own to do what she pleased with.
Whether her little sister understood it or not, what pleased her the most could only be found between the pages of books. So she collected her beloved tote and more of the money her mother had sent her to the surface with—enough money, Monty claimed, to live comfortably for months—ready to head out.
She’d barely managed to locate her shoes, though, before there was a knock at the door.
Expecting Willow, she pulled the door open without looking out the peephole like Finn had instructed her to do, while giving her a speech about personal safety in big cities.
But it wasn’t Willow at the door.
It wasn’t anyone she knew.
Whoever this stranger was, he was almost shockingly tall and on the lean side without looking too gaunt.
He had a classically, almost darkly, handsome face with a strong, wide jaw, a straight nose, and a stern brow over deep eyes that conjured up images of the bruised sky after a storm.
His black hair was styled back away from his face, and his gray suit was quite a bit tighter than the ones Finn wore.
And speaking of that, Henry would never allow Finn to don a tie that featured a bunch of black and gray hearts on a white background.
There was an energy about him that screamed paranormal, but she couldn’t quite place it. His energy felt almost dark and bright at the same time.
A warning pulsed low in her gut—predator energy, maybe. But layered over it was a kind of seductive charm she’d only ever seen used by sirens back home. The kind that made you want to follow, want to please. Even to your own death.
She wasn’t sure whether to slam the door or invite him in.