Page 28 of Take You Home (Redwater Demons #3)

Sasha rolls her eyes, elbowing Trevor out of the way and extending a hand. “Ignore my brother. He’s a drama king. I’m Sasha. ”

“Hi, Sasha,” Chester says faintly, shaking her hand. “It’s, uh, nice to finally meet you all.”

Trevor gestures meaningfully at Chester. “See? Kyle wanted to meet us! There was no reason to hide him!”

“I wasn’t hiding anybody!” Obie counters, exasperated.

And that might be a blatant lie?—after all, Chester has literally been invisible for their past three weeks of bowling?—but there’s no reason for Trevor to know that.

“Will you relax, my dude? You’re meeting him now.

You’ve met him. You’re friends now! So exciting. ”

Maggie shoots Obie a sidelong glance. “Well, this is the first time you’ve ever brought a significant other bowling.”

Obie scoffs. “You don’t know that. You’ve only been coming here for a year.”

“No, it’s true,” Nack Bar George says, appearing out of nowhere with his cane and a container of mozzarella sticks to scrutinize Chester closely.

“I can confirm that this is the first time in sixty years you’ve brought a significant other to Redwater Bowl.

” He offers the mozzarella sticks to Chester. “Here. To bribe you to return.”

Chester’s eyes light up. “Thanks, George,” he says, taking the carton and tilting it in Obie’s direction. “You want?”

Obie suppresses a smile. “All yours, puppy. Also, George, he’s my boyfriend. You don’t need to bribe him to come back.”

“No, no,” Chester says, shoving an entire mozzarella stick in his mouth. “I will accept any and all bribes. Thank you.”

Obie rolls his eyes. “You’re such a cheap date.”

“You should be happy about that,” Chester fires back, licking marinara sauce off his fingers. “I’ve been deprived of greasy bowling alley food for most of my life. Let me enjoy my greasy bowling alley food.”

A pang twists through Obie’s chest. Right. Chester didn’t have bowling outings with his high school friends every Friday night .

Instead, he spent that time learning how to fight and torture demons.

“Yeah, let him have his food,” Trevor agrees, stealing one of Chester’s mozzarella sticks. Chester looks aghast. “What? Sharing is caring, my man!”

Chester pulls the flimsy paper carton to his chest like a dragon hoarding its gold. “Mine,” he insists. “George gave them to me. I’ll share my fries, but I will not share my fried cheese.”

Sasha laughs, shaking her head. “All right. Obie, you’re up. Kyle, do you want to take his turn for him? We’re all failing miserably lately, so it’s not like you could make it any worse!”

“Ah,” Chester says, squinting suspiciously at the ball return. “No, thank you. I think I’ll stay over here where it’s safe.”

He keeps chatting with Sasha and Trevor as Obie strolls over to grab a bowling ball, making sure he doesn’t leave their twenty-foot range.

Maggie walks along beside him, lowering her voice.

“He’s not going to be safe for long,” she says, and Obie has just enough time to stiffen before she nods at the lane next to them.

“It looks like the Thorne family just got wind that you brought a partner. They’re probably going to be accosting him any minute now. ”

Obie snorts, his shoulders relaxing. “I warned him that everyone here is overly friendly. He’s prepared for a little bit of accosting.” Taking a deep breath, he strides forward, sweeps his arm in a practiced motion, and crosses his fingers as the bowling ball surges down the lane.

Two pins meet their demise. His second throw only manages to knock over one more, and he sighs as he steps away. “Let’s see if you can avenge us, Khan.”

“Doubtful, but I’ll do my best.” Once the pins are reset, she sends her ball spinning towards them with a snap of her wrist; it sails directly into the gutter with a sadly familiar rumble. “Why did I let you convince me to take up this stupid sport, again?”

Obie pats her shoulder sympathetically. “Because we’re both gluttons for punishment, and also because of George’s boneless wings.”

“We do love George’s boneless wings,” Maggie agrees, her eyes drifting back to Chester.

As predicted, he’s currently fielding ten thousand questions from the Thorne family, with Jill and Alex politely asking how long he and Obie have been dating while six-year-old Timmy enthusiastically tries to figure out if Chester and Obie have any kids he can play with. “So what’s the deal with Kyle?”

A flash of anxiety?—and a hefty dose of guilt?—churns through Obie. “What do you mean?”

Maggie arches an eyebrow. “I’ve known you for almost three thousand years, Obie. I’ve never seen you date anyone, let alone introduce them to friends and family.”

“Aw, friends and family?” Obie says. “You really do love us.”

“You’re tolerable,” Maggie says bluntly. “You’re also avoiding the question.”

“Well, I’ve dated a bit over the millennia,” Obie says vaguely, trying to dodge the fact that “a bit” means “approximately twelve times in fifteen thousand years.” “But I’ve never seen much of a need for it.

And humans are just so?—so fleeting, you know?

I mean, look at George. I first met him when he was a pimply teenager, and now, he walks with a cane.

In another twenty years?—?” He cuts himself off.

He doesn’t want to think about Nack Bar George dying.

Doesn’t want to think about any of his friends from Redwater Bowl dying.

“I never wanted to put myself through that.”

“But Kyle is different?”

Crap. Obie really should’ve thought through the Boyfriend Kyle lore in more detail. “He’s…”

He’s a Sanctum interrogator. He’s probably cut open hundreds of our brethren. He’s angry and bitter and untrusting, and he has a chip on his shoulder as deep as the Deep itself, and he makes rash decisions and meddles with dangerous magic, and? ? —

And he’s kind. He’s helpful and smart and funny. He’s horribly traumatized and brainwashed, but he somehow hasn’t lost that spark in his soul yet. He loves his friends and misses his family. He just wants to do what’s right.

“He’s different,” Obie says at last. “He’s?—he’s familiar, if that makes sense. Comfortable. I… enjoy spending time with him.”

Maggie stares at him. “That’s it?”

Obie squints back. “What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know,” Maggie says. “That he jumps out of planes to rescue puppies and moonlights as an exotic dancer, or something else that would justify you giving him those heart eyes.”

Obie sputters indignantly. “I am not giving him heart eyes!”

Maggie raises her eyebrows.

Obie throws a dubious look in Chester’s direction. “Am I?”

“Kind of, yeah.”

As Maggie walks back to the sitting area to wait for her next frame and Trevor strides up to the approach with a determined expression, Obie turns to where Chester is now being interrogated by Nathalie and Margot, who both look incredibly enthusiastic to meet Obie’s new partner.

Actually, most of the alley seems to be looking in their direction. Obie knows that gossip spreads through this place like wildfire, but he wasn’t expecting this level of attention just from bringing his fake boyfriend to Wednesday night league.

I’m glad we can finally make this a triple date. Obie’s always been the odd one out.

Obie fights back a wince. He’s a firm believer that not everyone needs a romantic partner to be happy, but he also knows that a lot of people?—especially humans?—tend to use that as their metric for success and fulfillment.

Maybe everyone is so excited to meet Chester because they’re happy that Obie is happy.

Fake happy, at least. He and “Kyle” aren’t actually dating, after all. They’re just together because of a stupid binding spell that the idiot hunter cast without considering the consequences. But once they break it…

Well. Maybe glamouring Chester tonight was a bad idea. The alley will be devastated when Obie has to fake their breakup. His heart hurts more than expected at the thought.

Sighing, he walks back over to where Chester is chatting with Sasha and Maggie about Sasha’s grad program.

Chester’s shoulders seem tense?—probably from being so close to Maggie, even though Obie made sure to temporarily block Chester’s Sanctum enchantments again?—but they relax the slightest bit when Obie strolls up.

“Hey,” he says, lifting his sadly empty food carton in greeting. “One mozzarella stick left. You sure you don’t want it?”

Obie shakes his head. “I’m good. Thanks anyway, puppy.”

“Well, I am starving,” Trevor announces, slapping a twenty-dollar bill into Chester’s hand. “Go buy us food, Boyfriend Kyle.”

“Um?—?” Chester’s eyes flicker over to the Nack Bar, clearly gauging the distance, before he nods. “Yeah. Yeah, sure. Be right back,” he says, and he shoves his last mozzarella stick into his mouth before strolling away.

Trevor barely waits until he’s out of earshot before saying approvingly, “I like him.”

“We all like him,” Sasha agrees, smiling at Obie. “He’s so sweet and funny, Obie! Where’d you find him? And where can I get one?”

“Maybe two, while you’re at it?” Trevor adds. “I’ll accept siblings, cousins??—? ”

Obie groans, massaging his temples. “No. No siblings or cousins. And I ‘found’ him, uh, at Lakeside. We bonded over our mutual love of Mina’s bibimbap during the lunch rush, and things just sort of progressed from there.”

Maggie is nodding slowly. Silently, Obie prays that she doesn’t talk to Cass or Ez about Obie’s alleged meet cute anytime soon. “Well, you seem to like him a lot. And he clearly likes you, so…”

The words pique Obie’s interest. “Really?”

Sasha frowns at him. “Did you doubt that? You’re dating him.”

Hastily, Obie backpedals. “Well, yeah, I know that he likes me, but, um. It’s just good to hear from someone else. How can?—how can you tell?”

The three of them stare at him.

“Look, humans are hard to read sometimes, okay?” Obie says defensively, heat creeping up his neck. “And I haven’t dated in a hot millennium or so. Give a demon a break.”