“Maybe.”
Disappointment threatens to replace the pleasant feelings I can’t recall ever having to this degree.
“Probably not though,” she adoringly coos prior to stealing a small touch of my lips. “Why don’t we go get breakfast and figure it out?”
Her suggestion brings a curious smile to my expression. “You’re hungry again?”
“I’m like always hungry,” Ana confesses on a guilty giggle.
Holding her tighter is thoughtlessly done.
Mate.
You know what Gold? You are absolutely. Fucking. Right.
I angle my head to the side to meet A.D.’s stare. “You’re not listening to me.”
“No…you’re not listening to me,” he insists with a playful smirk.
“I’m totally fucking listening to you.”
“Okay, but you’re not.”
“I am.”
“Fine, then you still don’t believe me about all the shifter shit.”
“I do believe you…”
After you see some of the things that I’ve seen over the past ten days, there’s no “not believing”. You can’t beat an elf within an inch of his life in your kitchen with a moldy ravioli pot or watch a news report about a Game of Thrones parking lot fight get passed off as a “possible terrorist attack” – thanks to some strings pulled by P – and deny that creatures you thought were imaginary really do exist.
Just like you can’t smoke unicorn sparkles – which are basically nonharmful cigars – at an underground jazz club run by vampires or tag along to an afternoon business meeting with a troll – who looks nothing like the popular 90s toy – that doesn’t understand why watching him drink tea out of a Yoda mug is remotely amusing – and continue to act as though none of it is real.
For lack of better phrasing, these last few days have been really fucking weird. And not just because I feel like the chorus from “A Whole New World” should now be my theme song. Living with some dude I just met is strange but loving the fact we live together is even more fucking bizarre! I love that he’s there when I go to sleep. I love that his messy, blond hair is the first thing I see in the morning. I love the way he lines up socks at the foot of the bed for me to put on before we go downstairs for breakfast and love even more the way he stacks food sky high on a plate for me prior to making his own. While most chicks would probably be into the whole new wardrobe they have at their disposal or the shiny new gold “D” locket or literally getting anything they want given to them by a genie – he’s so hilariously savage and doesn’t even realize it – what I actually adore most is getting to know the real A.D. The one who sings Madonna songs into his toothbrush when he thinks I’m still asleep and who asks for my feedback on the projects he’s stressing over. The one who lets me soothe those woes away by giving his hair a deep scrub and conditioning – something that brings me a sense of peace too. Craziest thing about all these changes is that I don’t hate them.
Not at all.
To be completely upfront about it…for the first time in my entire life, it really does feel like my luck has changed.
Even if I’m still jobless.
And technically homeless.
And apparently wanted by an evil corporation for being Fate Mated to an ancient dragon.
An ancient dragon who is hung like hell from what I’ve managed to grind myself against while making out.
For a man whore – self-proclaimed and backed by his brothers – he has been frighteningly respectful. He gets a little ass grabby when things are heating up, but who could fucking blame him? I’ve got a great ass. Other than that? No boundaries have been pushed. No demands to bond as they call it. Just endless chivalry shit – like opening doors, pulling out chairs, and swooping me over puddles so I don’t get my new shoes wet. You know, pretty much all the shit I thought died out when condoms were invented.
“I totally fucking believe you,” I overly emphasize to drive that point home, “but I’m telling you – I’ve been playing hide-and-seek with the girl since she was two and am never able to find her. I used to have fucking panic attacks that my brother was gonna come home, ask where his toddler was, and I was gonna have to openly admit why I can’t be trusted alone with children.”
A.D. releases a laugh so loud and so warm that I wish it were a blanket I could stay wrapped up in forever.
“Minnie is like fucking Houdini when it comes to hide-and-seek. One minute you see her and then for the next forty-eight minutes you don’t.”
“Forty-eight minutes?!”
“She came out when I promised her a fucking Butterfinger.” My grin reaches my ears. “I am not above bribery, Peanut Butter. You know this.”
“For Dragons Sake, don’t I fucking know it. I don’t think I’ve ever swam that many laps, that fast in my entire fucking life.”
“I wanted to go see that new Karry Baumgartner movie.” I innocently shrug. “Promising to wear knee-highs was a very small price to have to pay.”
His shimmering hazel stare momentarily dulls yet not long enough for me to comment on it. “You may suck at hide-and-seek, but I do not. It’s one of those times when dragon skills – like a heightened sense of smell – come in really fucking handy.”
Don’t love that skill when he can tell I’m turned on in a crowded night club where the only thing I’m smelling is too much perfume and an odd amount of corn chips.
“That feels like cheating.”
“It’s not.” The cocky grin that both attracts and repels me makes an appearance. “I’m not breaking any spoken of or agreed upon rules.”
“On a very tricky technicality.”
“Exactly.”
“I’m noticing a pattern here.”
“And I’m hearing tiny feet over there,” he chucks a thumb over his white dress shirt-covered shoulder, gold watch catching a bit of the sunlight leaking through the windows of my older brother’s two-story home. “Should we go see that I’m right? Or…do you wanna look in closets and around corners to prolong my inevitable gloating?”
I rise to my bare feet at the same time I coo, “God, how did you stay single for so long?”
A.D. matches my standing position, “Who said I did?”
Yet again, instincts to kiss him and kick him alike arise.
I don’t get it.
I’m generally not the jealous type. Like if that’s what a guy wants, I am definitely the wrong woman for the job. I don’t mind putting in work if you want to be with me, but I am not going to beg and plead and turn myself into a pint-size Lassie that pees in your lap to mark my territory. If all it takes is a little flirting from another person to have you wanting to go, then go. You’re clearly not as invested as I am. However, when it comes to A.D., for some reason I loathe learning about other women who had him in the way I wish I could stop masturbating to in the shower. He’s obviously not a virgin – that point is made every time his slightly thicker than average tongue fucks me in between my upper lips – but part of me cannot stand the idea of anyone else having my mate in a way that’s only meant for me.