FLORENCE
If there’s garlic bread involved, I’m not coming.
QUINN
Please, give me some credit.
I would never lead with that. That’ll be my finale. My grand farewell to the human realm.
FLORENCE
I’ve changed my mind. I’m definitely not free on Saturday afternoon.
I’m so busy grinning at my phone that I don’t notice the packet of Scampi Fries sailing across the bar until they hit me square in the face. When I whip round, Fox is leaning a hip against the bar and assessing me, arms crossed against her chest.
‘You good?’ she asks, tipping her chin at me.
Fox plays the cool kid effortlessly, but at heart I know she’s a real softie and I hate that I’m worrying her. That I’m worryinganyof my friends. I make a mental note to try and hide any future episodes from them as much as I can.
‘Yeah, fine now, thanks,’ I say, flashing her my most laid-back smile. Hoping it looks more nonchalant than it feels. ‘Good of you to checkbeforeassaulting me with bar snacks.’
She huffs a laugh before screwing her nose up at me and loping off to the end of the bar to serve a gaggle of men who’ve just appeared. And it’s right there, standing in the bar I manage, surrounded by the people I love, that I finally confront the possibility I’ve been ignoring.
There’s a very real possibility that in a few weeks or months– or whatever it turns out to be– I could die.
Really, actually die.
My heart speeds up and prickles of a cold sweat start at the back of my neck. I imagine Bram getting the news. Himtelling Sammi. Fox and Emmy comforting each other. Lucy pulling on a black dress instead of her usual soft pastels.
I need to tell them, I know I do. I can’t let them find out I’ve been hiding this from them this whole time.
I will. I’ll do it soon.
I swear to myself I will.
ChapterFourteen
FLORENCE
This, I think, tucking the skirt of my sage-green maxi dress underneath my feet to conceal the last bit of visible skin,is surely hell.
But it isn’t hell. It’s Whitby beach at 2pm on an unseasonably warm Tuesday.
I knew when Quinn told me what his plans were for the day that it would be my personal nightmare, but in his defence, I did say that I wanted him to explore the things he’d miss about his human life, and apparently this is one of the things on the list.
So, I’m here, on a public beach in full sun, hating every second. At least I haven’t burst into flames. Not yet, anyway.
The legends say vampires can’t be exposed to sunlight. They say the smallest contact with it will make us burn to a pile of ashes. But that’s not quite true.
The reality is much more mundane.
In practice, I have roughly the sun tolerance of a redhead in the Sahara. It’s pretty bad, but not nearly as inhuman as you might think. I religiously wear the highest factor of SPF available on any exposed skin, and that usually keeps me from burning. And by ‘available’, I mean available through my network of contacts. You can’t just go and pick up SPF 500 in Boots, though as I was picking my way through the crowds in my floor-length dress and enormous hat, I felt like it maybe should be an option. Do humans know that they need not burn their bodies to a crisp?
Anyway, all that aside, hot days are pretty rare in this part of the world, and with the constant vague threat of death looming over him, Quinn asked if we could spend his day off soaking up the sun on the beach.
So here we are.
We’ve been here about fifteen minutes and I’ve already hit my limit. My eyes are itchy and my skin is sore and I’m trying to be supportive, but honestly? I’m hating every second.