All the Feels Read Online Free Page B

her throat close. There was no way she could explain to him—someone with absolutely no imagination—what it was like to lose Spartan. A man like Gary would never understand her love of the Starveil series. “I—I’m fine,” she said. “And it’s hardly your place to—”
    “Your mother asked my opinion, and I’m giving it.”
    “Gary, please ,” Katherine pleaded. “We’re going to be late to the movie.”
    He muttered something about “warming up the car” and headed to the front door. It closed with a bang that rattled the pictures. Liv went to leave, but her mother stepped in her way, putting her hands on her shoulders.
    “All I said to Gary was that you’d been really quiet the last few days. And you have been.” She squeezed gently. “I was worried about you, Liv. That’s all.”
    “You don’t have to be.”
    “Please, sweetie. Come along … for me.”
    “Not today. Okay? I’m not in the mood.”
    Her mother’s smile faded into something careworn, and she let go of Liv’s shoulders. “Another time then? Just the two of us?”
    “Definitely.”
    When the door closed behind her mother, Liv unclenched her fists, staring down at the crumpled fortune in her palm: It’s up to you to make your happy ending.
    With those words, an idea flickered in the recesses of her mind. She smiled. Liv tucked the paper into her pocket, swept the broken pieces of cookie into the wrinkled brown bag, and brushed her hands over the sink. She grabbed her phone and tapped in a text.

    *   *   *
    Xander was waiting outside Cup O’ Joe when Liv arrived. Icy fingers of wind dug under her coat as she trudged up the street, whereas Xander, with his long wool cloak and knee-high riding boots, was much better dressed for the weather.
    Catching sight of her, he waved his walking stick. “Liv! Over here, dearest!” (As if she’d assume the Jonathan Harker look-alike was anyone but him.) Dracula was set nowhere near Boulder, she thought, but she’d be willing to bet she could match it for mood.
    “I thought you would’ve grabbed us a table,” Liv said, her breath clouding the frosty air. “It’s freezing out.”
    Snow swirled around the streetlights, catching on Xander’s hair and peppering his top hat, giving the scene a postcard appeal.
    “Joe’s is packed,” he said. “I tried, believe me. We’ll have to—” Xander’s dashing grin backflipped into a look of concern as he saw her face. “Christ, Liv, you look terrible!” he said, giving her a once-over. “Whatever happened?”
    Liv burrowed her nose into her scarf. “Nice to see you, too, Xander.”
    “I’m sorry for saying so, but you really do look dreadful.”
    “That is not an apology.” She glowered at him. “You are a terrible best friend.”
    Xander groaned. “Oh come now, Liv. You know what I mean.”
    “I don’t.”
    He waved a hand toward her mismatched ensemble. “Your hair isn’t washed, your clothes are wrinkled, your shoes—”
    “Not all of us live in a state of constant cosplay,” Liv interrupted. Her voice dropped. “Or perfection,” she muttered, thinking of Arden’s long blond hair, pert body, and designer clothes.
    Xander’s gloved hand brushed her elbow, and he gave her a gentle smile. “But you don’t look like you , dearest, and that worries me.”
    Liv knew it was true, because his words were growing into that strange hybrid of modern American and fake British upper crust. The first week of classes, Xander had gotten into an argument with their professor in the middle of class, and that same BBC-approved accent had come through. He was concerned.
    Liv glanced over his shoulder to the window of Cup O’ Joe. Xander was right. Every seat was taken. “So where do you want to go?” she sighed. “’Cause I’m turning into a Popsicle out here.”
    “Is Mickey Dee’s to your liking, m’lady?”
    “Perfect.”
    “Then your carriage awaits.” He did a half bow, waiting for Liv to pass in front of