“They are quite lovely, Thomas,” Nikki said. “I may have to arrange for a pretty for myself, tonight.”
I felt the warmth of Nikki’s will momentarily wrap around me before releasing. It was the sort of thing that I couldn’t truly get used to. She didn’t do it often, smothering my own will in the warmest, most comfortable weighted blanket when it was cold outside. When she withdrew it, there was an absence, a longing to get it back. Certainly that was what Thomas had done to his pretties, wrapped them up some that all they craved was more of that warm presence wrapped around their souls.
For me, though, it was a clear signal.
I pinched Nikki’s bottom.
Instead of jumping or giggling, or do any of the things that I probably would’ve wanted, her eyes whirled on me, hard as stone and piercing like daggers. “I have warned you repeatedly that now is not the time. Nor is it time for your jealousy.”
She stood up and crooked a finger at me to get up.
I did.
“Go. I have business to conduct and I’ll not have you pouting and pining for me. Arrange a room for us so that I can have proper words with you . . . and pick up a pretty for me. I’m sure the club will be accommodating. But be sure you are waiting for me when I have concluded my business.”
I had kept my head down and sunk further into myself with each word, being suitably abashed.
“Yes, Nikki,” I said meekly.
“Leave us,” she commanded.
I left, making sure I kept up the meek, defeated posture until I had disappeared into the hallway.
Maybe I can get to the bottom of this, now.