Fallen in Love Read Online Free

accent. “When do the celebrations commence?”
    He sounded
ridiculous
. But Shelby swallowed her laugh to avoid giving him away. She wasn’t sure what would happen if they were found out, but she’d read of impalings, of torture devices like the wheel and the rack.
Lip balm, Shelby. Stay positive. Hot cocoa and sun salutations and reality TV. Focus on that
. They were going to get out of here. They had to.
    The boy draped an arm adoringly around the girl’s waist. “Anon. Tomorrow is the holiday.”
    The girl swept her hand across the marketplace. “But as you can see, most of the sweethearts have already arrived.” She touched Shelby’s shoulder playfully. “Don’t forget to drop your name in Cupid’s Urn before the sun sets!”
    “Oh, right. You too,” Shelby muttered awkwardly, like she always did when the people at the airport check-in counter told her to have a good trip. She bit the inside of her cheek as the girl and boy waved goodbye, arms still linked as they sauntered down the street.
    Miles gripped her arm. “Isn’t that
great
? A Valentine’s fair!”
    This, coming from a baseball-playing boy-next-doorwhom Shelby once watched eat nine hot dogs in a single sitting. Since when did Miles get jazzed about a sappy Valentine’s Day party?
    She was about to say something sarcastic when she saw that Miles looked—well … hopeful. Like he actually wanted to go.
With her?
For some reason, she didn’t want to crush him.
    “Sure. Great.” Shelby shrugged nonchalantly. “Sounds like fun.”
    “No.” Miles shook his head. “I meant … the fallen angels are bound to be there, if they’re going to be anywhere. That’s where we’ll find someone who will help us get home.”
    “Oh.” Shelby cleared her throat. Of course that was what he meant. “Yeah, good point.”
    “What’s wrong?” Miles dipped the ladle into the well and held the cool cup of water up to Shelby’s lips. He stopped and wiped the edge clean with his sleeve, then held it out again.
    Shelby felt herself blushing for no reason, so she closed her eyes and drank deeply, hoping she wouldn’t catch some sort of withering sickness and die. After she’d finished, she said, “Nothing.”
    Miles dipped the ladle again and drank a big gulp, his eyes scanning the crowd.
    “Look—” he said, dropping the ladle back into the bucket. He pointed behind Shelby to a raised platformat the edge of the market stalls where three girls were huddled together, doubled over in fits of giggles. Between them was a tall pewter pot with a fluted rim. It looked old as dirt and pretty ugly, the kind of expensive “artwork” Francesca might have in her office at Shoreline.
    “That must be Cupid’s Urn,” Miles said.
    “Oh, yes, obviously. Cupid’s Urn.” Shelby nodded sarcastically. “What the heck does that mean? Wouldn’t Cupid have better taste?”
    “It’s a tradition carried over from the classical days of Rome,” Miles said, going into scholarly mode as usual. Traveling with him was like carrying around an encyclopedia.
    “Before Valentine’s Day was Valentine’s Day,” he went on, his voice tinged with excitement, “it was called Lupercalia—”
    “Looper—” She waved a hand, working out a bad pun. Then she saw Miles’s expression. So earnest and sincere.
    Registering her eyes on his face, he reached up instinctively to tug his baseball cap down over his eyes. His nervous habit. But his hands met only air.
    He flinched as if embarrassed and tried to stuff his hand in his jeans pocket, but the coarse blue cloak covered his pants, so all he could do was cross his arms over his chest.
    “You miss it, don’t you?” Shelby asked.
    “What?”
    “Your hat.”
    “That old thing?” He shrugged too quickly. “Nah. Haven’t even thought about it.” He looked away, casting his eyes emptily around the square.
    Shelby put her hand on his arm. “What were you saying about Looper … um, you know?”
    His eyes flicked back