Chapter 90

Ava

Chris and I turned at the sound of the woman’s voice, and I felt my heart practically stop in my chest as I saw a goddess of a woman descending the stairs. She was breathtakingly beautiful—angular, slender shoulders, long legs, silvery blonde hair cascading over one shoulder, and the biggest, most expressive blue eyes I had ever seen in my life.

The woman strode toward us with a beautiful smile on her lips—and a little dog tucked under one arm.

“Ophelia,” Chris said, his own smile widening as she approached. “You’ve outdone yourself.”

The woman—Ophelia—stopped in front of us and extended one gloved hand toward Chris, who politely kissed her knuckle. He then turned to the little dog and ruffled its fluffy ears.

“And you must be Ava,” Ophela said, turning to me. She regarded me for a moment through a fan of thick, inky black eyelashes, her gaze sweeping over me in one slow, appraising glance.

For a brief moment, I felt impossibly small and inadequate beneath the weight of her stunning beauty. Surely, a beautiful human woman like this would see me and see… well, not much more than what Olivia and Ethan had seen.

But then, her lips curved into a warm, genuine smile and she bent down, planting a kiss on each of my cheeks.

“It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you, Ava,” she purred. “Chris has told me so much about you.”

I blinked owlishly, temporarily too stunned to even formulate a response. During my silence, Ophelia snapped her fingers and a server scurried over, carrying a tray of champagne flutes. Chris took two glasses and pressed one into my hand.

“He—he has?” I finally managed, flicking my wide-eyed gaze over to Chris in confusion.

Chris simply chuckled, his hand finding the small of my back reassuringly as he nodded. “Ophelia is an old friend of mine. We—well, Ophelia, why don’t you tell Ava how we met?”

At that, Ophelia hiked the little dog up on her hip and gestured for me to follow. Shooting Chris one last dazed look, to which he smirked, I followed her clicking heels toward a room off the main foyer.

“Take a look for yourself, darling,” she said, gesturing to a framed photograph on the wall, right above a vintage velvet settee.

It was one of those stylized, pin-up style photographs that were so popular in old human magazines. Ophelia was lounging provocatively across the gleaming hood of what I immediately recognized as Chris’s racecar, wearing a Rockabilly getup—a red and black polka dot corset with blue denim shorts that left very little to the imagination, along with a pair of black pumps that made her calves look toned as hell.

I felt my fingers tighten around the stem of my champagne glass.

“Oh,” I murmured, blinking rapidly as I fought to get my whirling emotions under control. I couldn’t help it; the jealousy I felt upon seeing her like this made my pulse kick up a notch.

But before I could think too deeply on it, Ophelia was waving her hand dismissively.

“I know that look,” she teased, rubbing the little dog’s fluffy white head. “And don’t worry. It wasn’t like that.”

“Ophelia is a model here in the human world,” Chris explained, snaking his arm around my waist again. “We met a few years back when she was hired to do a photoshoot for the racetrack. They wanted to use my car, and, well…”

Ophelia grinned widely. “Chris and I became fast friends. But don’t worry, darling—he’s not my type.”

“She’s into older men.” Chris smirked, eliciting a roll of the eyes from Ophelia.

“Oh,” I said, unable to hold my laughter in. “Well, I don’t blame you. Younger men aren’t always…” I paused, glancing mischievously over at Chris. “...The most mature.”

Suddenly, Ophelia threw her head back and laughed loudly. Beside me, Chris’s face turned beet red—but I couldn’t help but join in on Ophelia’s infectious laughter. Despite her elegant, feminine appearance, she had the deep and throaty laugh of the type of woman I’d expect to find in a smoky bar.

And I liked that.

Slowly, I felt the tension seeping out of my shoulders as my initial reservations melted away. Despite her striking beauty, there was no malice or ulterior motive lingering behind those long lashes.

“I think I like this one,” Ophelia said, wiping a stray tear of laughter away from her cheek as she caught her breath. “Don’t go screwing it up, Chris.”

He smirked. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Come.” Ophelia waved for us to follow again, and Chris and I flanked her on either side. I found myself reaching out to scratch the little dog under the chin, and it looked up at me with a somewhat dumb, but also incredibly adorable, look in its eyes.

“What’s your dog’s name?” I asked.

“Oh, Goddess,” Chris said softly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Here we go…”

Ophelia hiked the little dog up again and patted its head. “Her name is Princess,” she said, grabbing a piece of shrimp off of a passing waiter’s tray and handing it to me. “Here. It’s about time for her mid--evening snack, otherwise her blood sugar will get too low…”

Before I knew it, Ophelia and I were becoming fast friends. She insisted on practically gluing herself to my side throughout the night, eagerly drinking in every little shred of information about Moonstone that I was willing to divulge.

In turn, she rewarded me with gossip about many of the wealthy guests in attendance—who was sleeping with whom, which business mogul was secretly on the verge of bankruptcy, and so on and so forth.

If I was being entirely honest, part of me still felt like an outsider amongst these impossibly glamorous socialites. More than once, I caught snippets of disdainful murmurs regarding the unusual glow of my moonflower tattoo, or questioning looks thrown my way whenever I so much as opened my mouth to speak.

But with Ophelia’s warm presence at my side, her laughter and charm keeping me constantly smiling, those nagging insecurities slowly began to melt away into the background along with the sound of the clinking glasses and upbeat music.

At one point, I found myself wrapped up with Chris on the dancefloor. We swayed together to the music, one of his hands wrapped securely around mine while the other pressed possessively into my lower back.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” he murmured against my ear.

I couldn’t quite suppress the tiny shiver that danced down my spine at the feeling of his breath fanning across my skin. “You know... I actually am,” I admitted, tipping my head back to meet his gaze. “Ophelia is... well, she’s lovely. And so much fun to be around.”

“But aside from Ophelia,” Chris said, using both of our entwined hands to gestured around us. “What do you think of all of this? The party, the hotel room, the human world…”

I let out a soft sigh. “I never thought I’d say it, but… I like it here. It’s not Moonstone, but—”

“I doesn’t need to be,” he finished for me. “I’m not asking you to live here full-time again. But who knows? I wouldn’t mind spoiling you on more dates like this. If that’s what you’d want, of course.”

I hummed in contentment, allowing my eyes to flutter closed as I pressed my cheek against his chest. Maybe… Maybe.

“Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.”