Perfect Love (A Celestra Novella) (13 page)

“Yeah sure. I’ll knock on your door as soon as I get in.”

She cuts a look toward the stairs. “I was thinking maybe we could grab some coffee. Just
me
and
you
.”

“Got it.” I give a solemn nod. I bet she’s got some serious as shit news to tell me about the She-Landon. Turns out, little sweet Melissa is destined to try and take down Celestra. But after all the trouble, the battles, the fucking
war
I went through
,
I’m not about to let that happen. Not to mention the fact it was that very war that cost Logan his life—Chloe killed him.

A grievous heartbreak washes over me as I struggle to push Logan to the back of my mind. If I go there I’ll sink, and I’ll never make it through my first day of school let alone out the door this morning.

Nevertheless, I plan on keeping things real tight between Melissa and me for the next several decades. Now that I’m the overseer of the factions, it’s my responsibility to do just that.

I push Mia’s hair back with my fingers. “How about we head over to the Gas Lab?” Nev mentioned he had something new to show me, so that ought to kill two birds with one stone. I give a private smile because Nevermore actually used to be a bird.

“Great!” Mia gives me a spontaneous hug. “Text you later.”

“Where are you off to today?” I know for a fact West Paragon doesn’t go back to school until next week.

“Cheer.” She makes a face. “The new cheer coach is a real bitch.”

“Who’s the new cheer coach?” I shout as she hauls ass up the stairs.

“Chloe Bishop.”

What? Emily mentioned something about being an assistant coach. She and Drake had a baby girl a few weeks back, and I happened to be there to witness the bloody event. There was bona fide screaming, head spinning, and green vomit. I witnessed firsthand as Emily Morgan’s body cracked in half, and all kinds of spare parts came rushing out, thus sponsoring my new and secret decision to never have kids.

Anyway, I seriously doubt Ezrina is teaching cheer. She’s more of a
shear
leader due to her unnatural obsession with all things sharp and pointy. Ezrina was gifted Chloe Bishop’s earthly form and vice versa, although Chloe managed to still look like her idiotic self.

I head back to my coffee and bump into Mom and her oh-so-cute nipple accessory, Misty.

“Hey you.” I touch my sister’s soft little cheek. She’s plumping up nicely. She’s always so damn peaceful when she’s suckling away, but in a sad, sick way, it’s the only time I’m really able to enjoy her. “She’s going to be a knockout.” I brush my fingers through her thick black hair. Swear to God, I’ve never seen such a mop on an infant before. Not that I’ve seen that many babies, but Beau over there has nothing but a few red feathers up top.

“I know, right?” Mom is quick to agree. “With all that thick, gorgeous hair, those cobalt blue eyes—she’s a real beauty queen in the making.”

“That’s funny, that’s exactly how I describe Gage’s eyes—cobalt.”

“It’s the perfect color, don’t you think?” She blinks over at me, and an unsettled feeling washes through me, like a bird just crapped on my shoulder, and I can’t figure out where. Tad has brown-ish eyes, and Mom has pale bluish-green eyes. I wonder what the odds of having a tiny Gage knockoff are? Not that Gage would even glance in my mother’s direction, but, still, this child is suspiciously gorgeous. I look around the corner at Tad and his bloated frame still hunched over his laptop. His hair is sort of multi-colored—that is, what little he has left.

“What color hair do you think Tad has?” I wince over at him. He’s pasty and sort of overall sickly looking, but, otherwise, he’s in perfectly good health.

She peers at him from over my shoulder. “I’d say, salt and pepper.”

I make a face. Just the thought of associating Tad with table condiments makes my stomach turn. I may never season my food again without imagining Tad’s greasy hair all over my plate.

“I think he’s brindle.”

“
Skyla
.” Mom rolls her eyes while bouncing both the baby and her boobs. “That’s a word you use to describe dogs, not people.”

I hold my tongue. Sometimes she makes putting Tad down all too easy.

Baby Beau waddles up and latches onto her leg.

“Well, I’d better take off and get to the Olivers. Gage awaits.” I turn to head out the door, and she plucks me back by the elbow.

“If you see Professor Dudley, let him know I’m really excited about our little project. Tell him I’m working on a special plan just for him.” She says that last part extra slow.

Crap. Mom and Marshall teaming up for a “special plan” sounds like a natural disaster in the making.

“I won’t be seeing him. In the event you forgot, I’m no longer at West.” Mom has had a serious case of “baby brain” ever since Misty decided to go nocturnal. “And he’s not a Professor. He’s just a teacher.” A rather hot, distractingly good-looking teacher who I’m sure will work all the incoming junior and senior girls into a tizzy. It was impossible to get any real work done in his class.

Mom claps her hand over her mouth, and her eyes round out like a couple of yo-yos. “Oh, that’s right,” she says in that bad acting kind of way like she’s just playing along with my insanity. “I’ll speak to him myself when I get a chance.” She winks.

“So what’s the special plan?”

“It’s for his Halloween party. It’s going to be to
die
for.” She nudges me in the shoulder, proud of her play on words.

“Halloween at Dudley’s, huh?” Since I’m technically his spirit wife, of course I’ll be there. “All I have to say is thank God it’s not at Demetri’s again.” Mom helped plan that disaster, too.

“I wish you’d get over your differences.”

“Our
differences
? He killed, Daddy.”

The baby fusses, and she does a quick nipple switch without so much acknowledging the felony her Fem-a-licious boy toy is responsible for. Demetri and Mom go way back, and he still has a thing for her. The feeling is mutual, but she’ll never admit it. I detest him with a heated passion. Demetri is the devil. Well, not really. He’s a Fem, some kind of created monster akin to a Sector. Marshall happens to be a Sector, but every single one of those are hotter-than-hell looking. Nevertheless, they’re both hybrid angelic beings.

“I really enjoyed helping Demetri with his party last year.” She gets that faraway look in her eye as if she’s reliving each of the ways she
helped
him.

“I bet you did. You spent all of September and October locked at the hip with that dark-haired cretin.” I suck in a breath while doing some quick procreative math. September is exactly nine months from June. Demetri has hair as black as midnight. He’s a Fem, so who the hell knows what color eyeballs he’s sporting today. Fems can shape shift with the best of them.

Mom steadies her hand over my arm. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

I glance down at Misty as her lips curl in a half-smile while giving my mother a toothless bite right over the nipple. Her little eye twitches, then the left one closes and opens, and swear to God that child just—

“She winked!” Mom marvels. “I swear she just winked at you, Skyla.” Mom coos into her little bundle of questionable Fem joy. “Isn’t she the sweetest?”

She’s something.

Holy crap.

I step away from the two of them, slowly picking up my backpack off the floor without looking.

“Have a great first day at school!” Mom waves as I speed out the door. “Have lots of fun! Take life by the horns, and make it give you what you want!”

“Oh, I will,” I shout back as I shut the door behind me.

I bet she had lots of
fun
right around this time last year. I bet she took a Fem by the
horn
and made him give her exactly what she wanted—a baby.

I jump into the Mustang and burn rubber all the way to my favorite Levatio’s house.

Only Gage can wash away the image of my mother and Demetri going at it.

Speaking of going at it.

Maybe it’s time Gage and I did just that.

Gage

Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty.

My back pinches as my elbows give way to the pain, landing me face first into the hardwood floor of my bedroom.

So much for hitting a hundred push-ups before breakfast.

Shit.

I sit up and twist my neck from side to side. It’s been killing me for the past few weeks ever since I was blindsided with that tackle. And I’m still plenty pissed at the idiot who thought it was a good idea to put me in a chokehold while my body was still twisting on the ground.

First game is next Friday against Washington, and I’d better get my act together. I’m so stiff, my head might snap off with one good hit.

I catch my face in the mirror as I swipe a pair of boxers from the dresser. Every now again when I catch my reflection just right I think I’m seeing that idiot from Ephemeral—Wesley. That he’s somehow appeared in my room, and I’m going to have to kick the shit out of him for trespassing, but it’s not him. The whole thing still doesn’t sit well with me. The fact there’s another person on the planet wearing my face, makes me more than a little uneasy. If I was anyone else, hell, if I were one hundred percent human, I might think it was just some freaky coincidence. But I know better, there’s no such thing as a coincidence, and I want to know why the hell Wesley Parker is haunting the other side of the country with my face.

I hit the shower and get dressed before heading downstairs. Skyla texted and said she was on her way, so I expect to see her when I hit the bottom of the stairs, but there’s no sign of her yet—just Mom and Dad in the kitchen, and my heart sinks a little. Even though it’s been months, I still can’t get used to the house without Logan in it. He said he wouldn’t be back until Skyla and I had a chance to establish ourselves as a couple, but, the truth is, we’ve been too busy grieving his sorry ass to even think of cementing our relationship. I think I’m ready, though. I’m craving Skyla both in and out of my wet dreams. It’s got so bad I’m downright shaking around her.

“Morning.” It comes out a little grumpier than anticipated. Going to bed at three in the morning will do that to a person.

“Good morning!” They sing back in unison, my mother from the stove while working on the world’s tallest tower of pancakes, and my father from the table, neatly tucked behind his newspaper. I think he’s reading the last edition. Then again I say that every morning about the paper relic.

“Another rough night of sleep?” Dad’s dark-framed glasses slide to the tip of his nose. He’s already in his business attire, his hair neatly combed back for another day at the morgue.

“You guessed it.” I plop into a chair just as Mom plunks down a glass of fresh squeezed O.J. She’s been pampering me a little more than usual since Logan left. We’re all ready for him to come back. Each day we seem to grieve him a little bit more.

“Why don’t you see that chiropractor I’ve been telling you about?” Mom moves the pancakes to the table along with the butter and syrup at lightning speed. She has her auburn hair pulled back, tight in a bun. She over-dyed it a strange magenta shade last month and since then she’s been every variation of pumpkin trying to correct it. “His son is at the preschool, and every mother on this island has been faking an injury just to be near him. He may be quite the looker, but, apparently, he’s also very good at what he does.” She leans toward the window and squints. “What’s she doing here?”

She
is most likely Skyla. Mom seems to be a little uneasy around her because she thinks we’re going at it, hot and heavy, in our free time, but nothing could be further from the truth.

I hop up and open the door for her.

“Hey, you!” Skyla jumps up and wraps herself around me, easy as twine, and my neck tweaks. I hold back the groan that’s begging to rip out of my chest. I’ll take all the pain my neck wants to give so long as I can have Skyla’s body over mine.

“Look at you.” I pull back and take her in head to toe. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a ponytail. She’s dressed a little more sophisticated than I’m used to, and my balls wrench because, holy hell, they approve. “You look hot.”

“I do not.”

“You
do
.” I sink a kiss over her lips. “You’ve got that whole sexy librarian thing going on.”

“Librarian?” A mild look of panic crosses her face.

“Have I ever told you, I’ve always had a thing for librarians?”

“Well, in that case.” She bats her lashes, and my dick gets ready to wag in her direction. “It looks like I dressed to impress the right person.” She bites down on a smile before crashing her lips over mine.

“Skyla is that you?” Mom sings from behind, and we part ways as if kissing were illegal in all fifty states. And I have a feeling it would be if my mother had anything to say about it. “Did you need something?” Her eyes round out. “I thought Gage was picking you up? We were in the middle of breakfast.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Skyla brings her fingers to her lips. “That was rude of me to just invite myself over like that. I didn’t mean to—”

“Stop,” I say just above a whisper. “You never need an invitation.” I press a quick kiss over her lips to assure her of just that. “Come in. I’ll share my pancakes with you.”

Skyla and I head to the table while Mom lands another plate in front of us with a notable clatter.

“Hi, Dr. O.” Skyla smiles sweetly over at him. “So where’s, Giselle?” She looks around as if my sister might be in the kitchen somewhere.

“She sleeps until noon.” Mom gives a disapproving look to Dad. “She’s out until all hours of the night with that Harrison boy.” She says Harrison like it’s a dirty word. And, knowing Ellis, it probably is. He and my sister have had a “thing” for the last few months. I’m watching that douche. One wrong move and I’ll rip his balls off. Ellis is a pretty cool guy, but, in truth, I liked him a little more when he wasn’t interested in my sister.

Dad straightens his paper. “She has another week until school starts. No use in cracking down during her final week of summer.”