I suppose the fates might still be here too, but they've never been the type to mingle with humanity. They were always isolated … from everyone and everything. There are descendents, too. But the bloodlines are so watered down now that there are unlikely to be any mortals out there with significant ties to deity. Oracles, perhaps, might be the rare exception. I've never met one myself, but I heard rumors of them long after the greater gods withdrew from the world.
“Kalli? Are you still there? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry.”
“No … no, it's fine. I'm sorry. I got a little lost in my thoughts. And to answer your question … it's just me. I don't see any of my family anymore.”
He's silent for a long time on the other end. Maybe waiting for me to say more. Or perhaps unsure of how to reply. Other people never are. They usually apologize or offer sympathies or attempt to pry. When Wilder does reply he only says, “I wish you were in my arms right now.”
“Me too,” I answer without thinking.
We stay on the line a little longer, not really saying anything. But I can hear him breathing on the other end, and it somehow helps with the emptiness I always feel when I think about my sisters. A part of me knows that we would have had to split up eventually, even if things with Mel hadn't gone so wrong. We couldn't have all lived and gone unnoticed together in the modern world. But that doesn't mean I don't miss them, that I don't feel the barely there tug of our intertwined fates behind the larger more vibrant thread that I'm currently feeling with Wilder.
“I should go,” I finally say.
“Okay.”
“Can I call you tonight? Before I go to bed?”
He pauses for a moment, and I imagine him smiling.
“I'd like that.”
After we hang up, I text a few people in the group again, trying to see if anyone has any free time or is working on anything interesting. No one is available. I didn’t text Jack yesterday since he was the last person I had contact with as a muse and I’m trying to space them out, but I’m desperate enough to see Wilder, that I text him anyway.
He replies almost immediately. He has tomorrow evening off. And he wants to know if I’d pose for him again.
I waver, knowing that Wilder probably wouldn’t like the idea if his reaction to Jack on Christmas is any indication. But I don’t have much of a choice. And besides … that was before we talked, before I made my decision. He knows now how I feel. And really, Jack isn’t even remotely a threat to him. No one is.
I text him back, yes. And we make plans to meet the following evening at his apartment.
Chapter Eighteen
Wilder
Kalli calls late that night while I’m going through some files for work. I smile when I see her name on the caller ID, and I start packing up my work as I lift the phone to my ear.
“Hey you,” I answer.
There’s a long silence, enough that I pull the phone back to make sure I didn’t accidentally hang up or lose the call.
“Kalli? Are you there?”
“I’m here. Sorry.”
Her voice is soft. Warm. It reminds me of caramel for some unfathomable reason. Christ, this girl turns me into a total idiot.
“How did your work go?”
“Um. Okay. I’ve got some more that I need to do tomorrow, but I think I could take some time off the next day.”
I run through my schedule in my head. That’s a Monday, and I’m working through most of the day. And I think Mom has a night shift, so I’d have to be at her place that night to keep Gwen, but I could swing something in between.
“How about dinner?” I ask. “I could pick you up around six-thirty?”
“You got your car back okay?”
“Yeah. Mom took me by to grab it. So, six-thirty? We good?”
She hesitates again, and I wonder if she’s trying to keep me away from her place. I don’t have the slightest clue where she lives. “We could meet somewhere if that’s easier?”
“Yeah. Yeah, that would be great.”
“Any requests on where or what we eat?”
I can almost hear her shake her head on the other end. “How about you take me to one of your favorite places.”
I rack my brain for a moment, but come up empty.
“I’m not sure any of the places I frequent are good first date material.”
“I don’t care. This hardly counts as a first date anyway. And I’d rather go somewhere that will teach me about you than a first-date-appropriate restaurant.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I don’t want either of us to feel like we have to impress each other or be something we’re not. I’d rather skip over all that posturing and just get straight to what matters.”
God, this girl. I can tell already that I’m going to fall so damn hard for her. It’s not a certainty I’ve ever felt before, and it freaks me out. But that doesn’t change how inevitable it all feels. And I like the idea of us just getting to know each other for real. Normally, the first few weeks of dating someone are filled with dinners I can no longer afford and small talk carefully balanced so as to be interesting, but not tipping into dangerous zones. It’s like walking a damn tight wire, trying to get to the other side where you figure out whether this is a person you’ll actually want to be with when real life sets in.
I already know that I want her for more than a first date and a second and a tenth.