When I returned to the table, Raye looked up with a curious tilt of her head, her eyes still bright from laughter. "Where did you go?"
"Bathroom," I replied quickly as I sat back down.
The stolen drink still lingered at the back of my throat, sweet and heavy, and my lips tingled faintly.
"Mm." She hummed, unconcerned, and turned back to Jeron. They had fallen into easy conversation again, words flowing between them, making it obvious they had known each other for some time.
"So," Raye said slyly, narrowing her doe eyes at him over the rim of her glass, "are the rumors true?"
Jeron arched a brow. "Rumors?"
"That you're seeing someone," she pressed, her grin widening. "A mysterious girl, slipping into the House of Ambrosia just to hear you play. I've heard enough whispers to piece it together. Don't bother denying it."
Jeron's pale eyes shifted away, and he gave a soft huff of amusement. "People in this city love to talk."
