Dangerous Dream

AFTER Wesley Lincoln

Wesley Lincoln never could’ve imagined being as whipped as his best friend, Ethan, not for one minute of his life. Not even back when he was a hundred percent Mortal, one bite and a whole quarter Incubus ago.

Things with Ridley weren’t like that. The two of them didn’t say nice things to each other; they fought. They didn’t look for little ways to help each other; they competed in one-liners and dares. They didn’t hold hands and go on errands and hang out with each other’s families. They made out like two lit firecrackers burning up oxygen off the same match.

Then they didn’t speak for weeks at a time.

It was hot.

Stupid, but hot.

When Rid walked into the room, Link got goose bumps. He didn’t even have to be looking at her. Just so long as he knew she was there. It was like he had some kind of radar that went off in the presence of that girl. Right or wrong. Good or bad.

Maybe it was an allergy.

A bad one.

Wait, is that a certain kind of whipped? Is that how it’s supposed to be? Like an infection? Poison oak or something?

Link didn’t mind about Ethan and Lena. They were like Bert and Ernie, and it was sort of sad to see Bert without Ernie. Those two fuzzy little guys belonged together, no matter what his mom had to say about it. And he had become used to having Lena around, especially during the time they had both lost Ethan to the Otherworld. Lena was like a little sister to him. A fuzzy little sister.

Ridley was something else.

None of it was easy with her. None of it was ever what it looked like at first. That’s what Link usually loved about Ridley. She’d claw your eyes out and then weep over the scratch marks. She was her own worst enemy and her own best friend. She made life so damn hard for herself, and everyone around her, that it was like a miracle, only in reverse.

But she’s not anything like any other girl I’ve ever met.

Link watched her from across the swimming pool. They had started the day at Ravenwood, but then he had Ripped them all to a new location after Ridley’s hissy fit this morning, when she had decided it was too hot not to swim.

When Rid got these ideas in her head, she was too stubborn to let them go. Then it was up to Link or Lena to bail her out, every time.

Lena had called the community center and found out that the pool was closed on account of a wayward diaper incident, so Ridley had insisted they find another place to swim.

“What’s wrong with hanging out by the lake?” he’d asked.

“The lake isn’t Saint-Tropez,” Ridley had said.

“I’m a country boy,” Link had said.

“Saint-Tropez is in a country,” Ridley had countered. “And that country happens to be France.”

“Well, you can Santa Toupee yourself somewhere else, ’cause I don’t like it.” After that Ridley had pouted, and Link had given in. Of course he had. That’s all he ever did lately. He was your basic slave to love—but the girl he loved wouldn’t even admit she loved him back. Guys had written songs about less.

Link turned over in his lounge chair, pulling his towel halfway over his face. An Incubus working on his tan. This whole thing is ridiculous.

Link didn’t like it—except for how the girls’ bathing suits were smaller, when they were there at all. The guys were in Speedos, which revealed too much to make anyone comfortable, as far as he was concerned.

If I had my own country, guys would swim in long pants. Girls would just, you know… swim. Link grinned at the thought.

“Hey, Shrinky Dink.”

He opened one eye. Ethan and Lena were splashing in the shallow end while John and Liv shared a towel. Ridley was “fanning herself,” which meant that two pool boys were fanning her as she sipped what looked like lemonade out of a tall glass.

“Citron pressé,” she called over to him, holding up her drink. “Want one? I have a whole pitcher.”

“No thanks. I’ll stick with lemonade.”

“That’s what this is, Hot Rod.”

Lena pulled herself out of the pool and grabbed a towel. Ethan only let go of her hand long enough to grab his own.

Like I said, whipped. They’d probably even pee holding hands underneath the stalls if you let them. Maybe you can do that in France.

“What are we going to do tonight, kids?” Ridley looked at her cousin. “And don’t try to tell me book club is a real thing again.”

Lena rolled her eyes. “I didn’t make that up. Google it or something.”

“Google? Yeah, right. Stupid word. You probably made that up, too.” Ridley sniffed. She liked to pretend she was above Mortal technology.

Ethan laughed. “Let’s get out of here. I have to start my job at the library tomorrow.”

“Job?” Ridley sounded annoyed.

Lena smiled. “Ethan’s helping Liv and Marian in the stacks. Just until we leave in September. I told him I’d go hang out with him tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry,” Ridley said.

“Thank you?” Ethan looked amused.

“What about John Boy? Can’t he help read things?” Ridley never said anything positive about John Breed. She never said anything positive about anyone, come to think of it.

Why is that? Link thought, looking at her. It’s not like she needed any more self-esteem. The girl was an esteem factory.

“John’s busy with Uncle Macon.” Lena didn’t elaborate. “And he’s also gone after this summer, you know. John and Liv.”

Ridley looked doubly irritated.

“That leaves you and me, Sugarplum.” Link looked at her. “Wanna go see a movie in Summerville or somethin’? The monster truck rally’s up in Columbia. Road trip?”

“Just let me get my dip.” Ridley shot him a withering look. “I thought summer was supposed to be fun. Three days in and I’m already bored to death.”

“Aww, it’s not that bad.” Link sat up and looked at her, pulling the towel from his head.

“Are you talking about your hair? Because it is that bad.” She raised an eyebrow.

Link grinned. He knew how his hair was sticking up, and he didn’t care. If you love me, you love my hair.

The question was, did she love him?

“There’s a new club I want to hit. Suffer. It’s like Exile, only hotter.” Ridley had made up her mind. When she looked around the sticky plastic booth at the Dar-ee Keen, though, nobody else was biting.

Here we go, thought Link, already tired. “Everything’s hotter, Babe. It’s almost July.”

She wasn’t giving up. She pushed away her double-cherry-chocolate shake. “Come on, guys. Just this once. Let’s get out of this boring town and light it up, Caster-style.”

“Because our little trip to the South of France didn’t do it for you?” Ethan shoved the rest of his fries on top of his burger and into his mouth.

He still ate as though he was making up for lost time, Link thought sadly. Or because his best friend can’t eat anymore. It was the only thing Link missed about being a hundred percent Mortal.

That, and sleeping in. Or sleeping at all.

“France? That was today. This is tonight.” Ridley tried to make her logic sound reasonable, but Link wasn’t buying it any more than the rest of their friends.

Ethan shook his head. “I guess I don’t need to remind you how many times Link and I have nearly gotten our butts kicked at Exile. Caster-style.”

Ridley shrugged. “Two hybrid Incubuses, a Siren, and a Natural. You and the Trapper Keeper will be safe as babies in butt bags.”

Liv looked annoyed. “It’s Keeper.”

“And they’re called diapers.” Lena shook her head.

“Whatever.” Ridley fluttered her pink nails dismissively.

“I’ll go,” Link said with a sigh. “I’d go anywhere with you, Sugarplum. You know that. If I’d go to Saint No Way today, I’ll go to Suffer tonight. At least the name’s settin’ my expectations where they probably belong.”

“Aw, thanks, Shrinky Dink.” She kissed his cheek and he pulled her close, bringing his mouth to hers. They kissed across the booth table.

Ethan and Lena and Liv and John collectively groaned, like they always did. But Ridley and Link ignored them, like they always did. Then they just kept kissing, like it was a hundred degrees inside and out.

Like they would die as soon as this kiss was over, and neither one of them cared.

Like it was the end of time, and there was nobody else left in the whole world to keep them apart.

Third Degree Burns, Link thought. That’s what this is. Finally.

By the time Link came up for air, Ridley’s arms were wrapped around his neck, and her bright pink lipstick was wrapped around his face.

“That was seriously the most disgusting display of PDA anyone’s ever witnessed in the history of Gatlin County,” Ethan said, pushing his burger away.

“Possibly throughout all of history,” added Liv.

“Yeah. Gross,” John said. “Can I have those onion rings?”

Lena kept her eyes on the table.

But Link ignored them. He kept his forehead pressed against Ridley’s, whispering something into her face.

A secret. Something private.

Something he should have told her a long time ago.

“You what?” She yanked away from him as if he’d lit her pink streak on fire.

Link felt like she’d thrown a bucket of water in his face. “I love you, Rid. You gotta know that by now.”

“Here we go,” Ethan said, pushing his way out of the booth.

“See ya,” John said, grabbing the onion rings. Liv and Lena followed him out the door. They knew better than to say a word.

All four of them ran for it.

Link might as well have lobbed a grenade at Ridley, instead of three little words. He didn’t know what all the fuss was about. But she stood there staring at him like he’d whipped off his pants in the middle of the Dar-ee Keen.

You could drive a monster truck through her mouth, Link thought. That’s how far it’s hanging open.

“Don’t be stupid,” Rid finally said, without looking at him.

Link shoved his hand through his spiky hair. “So, yeah. That’s not what you’re supposed to say when a guy tells you he loves you.” He wiped pink lipstick off his face.

Rid rolled her eyes. “What am I supposed to say? I love you, too? Do you know how ridiculous that is?”

“No. But I get the feelin’ you’re about to spell it out for me.” Link looked grim. In the distance, Charlotte, the Dar-ee Keen’s only full-time waitress, held up a pitcher of refill soda. He shook his head.

Not now. Not when all hell is about to break loose.

“Do you know how many guys have said those words to me? And do you know how many times I’ve said them back?” Ridley was losing it.

“I’m going to go with ‘all of them’ and ‘zero,’ based on this whole conversation.” Link exhaled. Keep it calm. Talk her down. You know how to do this, bro.

“Ding, ding, ding.” She was furious, and anger brought out her nasty side.

“You don’t have to be nasty about it. I get it.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. I get it. I’m not as stupid as you think I am.” Link flicked a piece of melting ice across the table.

“Really?”

He looked up. “You don’t love me. You don’t love anybody. You’re a Siren. I’ve heard it all before.”

“Then, why—”

“The thing is, Rid, that’s not what it feels like when you’re with me.” He had to be honest. He had nothing left to lose.

“Please,” she snapped.

Link kept going. “I gotta be honest with you. I kinda feel like you—”

“Don’t say it.” She held up her finger. A threat.

“You love me.” He smiled because he knew it was true, whether or not Rid would ever admit she felt that way. He didn’t know why that didn’t seem to cut it anymore.

“I said not to say it.” Ridley was backing her way out of the booth.

“You don’t have to be so tough all the time. Not around me, Rid.” He got up after her.

Her hands were against the glass door of the restaurant. “I am tough. It’s everything else that I’m faking.”

“See that? You’re a liar. A big fat liar.” He leaned against the wall next to her.

“I’m none of those things. Not big. Not fat. Not a liar.” She was like a cornered polecat, and he’d never seen her so panicked.

“Yeah? Then what are you?” He raised an eyebrow, waiting. He could wait all night.

“Out of here. That’s what I am.”

True to her word, she wasn’t lying. Before Link could say anything, Ridley was gone.