“Maybe you’re like Medusa or something . . .”
“I don’t have snakes for hair or anything . . . Also, I don’t think Medusa hypnotized people so much as turned them to stone and ruined them completely.”
“Okay, know-it-all.”
“Me?” he asked, all innocence.
“Yes, you have an answer for absolutely everything. Please quit correcting people all the time. It’s annoying.”
“About Medusa?”
“About everything.”
“Well, I think you’ve got them, the snake hair things . . .” He was kissing down her neck, his hands bracketing her ribs. “I feel ruined when I’m with you.”
Ainsley smiled, but he must not have been able to tell, because he paused, tensing.
“Like, in a good way.”
“I know. It’s okay.” It’s okay, dragon. Your treasure knows you mean well. She kissed the end of his nose. “You want to watch part of Lord of the Rings with me?”
Kyle crinkled his nose in distaste. “No, thank you.”
“Really? Why not?”
“That doesn’t appeal to me whatsoever.”
“But you like fantasy video games!”
“I don’t do classics in any genre. They don’t hold my attention. Video games have a medium that I find visually stimulating. So no. No Lord of the Rings.”
She sighed with a smile. “So much for compromise . . .”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
AFTER THE PANCAKE DAY, Kyle started coming over after he dropped off Cooper. She cooked the first two nights, but after she apparently put too much garlic in the fried rice, he showed up the next night with a bag of groceries in each hand and made himself comfortable in her kitchen. Tonight he’d roasted a whole chicken. She was already making plans for the leftovers. She was going to make an epic sandwich tomorrow.
Ainsley watched Kyle over the top of her book. After dinner, he’d washed her dishes and pulled a book out of his bag. He started reading, eyes scanning the page quickly. A little wrinkle would appear between his eyebrows, he’d stare off into the distance, then he’d go back to reading again. He did that for thirty minutes solid without saying a word to her. She couldn’t take it anymore.
“Kyle.”
He kept reading.
“Kyle, honey.”
His head lifted, but he didn’t look up. “Mmm?”
“Are you just going to read until you have to go?”
He gave her his gaze then, frowning. “Did you not want me to?”
“I . . . I don’t know?”
“You seem unhappy.”
“More just . . . confused?” She scootched closer to him. “Why did you come over if you’re just going to ignore me?”
“We talked during dinner and during its preparation. And I’m not ignoring you.”
Now she was frowning. “You’re not?”
“No! And I came over because I like being with you. I like having you around while I read.”
“Don’t you want to, I don’t know, talk or something?” Or something was code, but she wasn’t sure if he’d get it. She leaned into his body and the phrase at the same time, putting a light hand on the leg he had braced against the couch cushions.
“Like watch a show? We can do that if you want to.”
Sexy code was apparently difficult for dragons. She sighed. “This makes you happy?”
“Oh, yes. Very. As an educator, I would think you’d be familiar with parallel play.”
Ainsley bit her lip until the urge to snicker passed. “I’d say I’m more familiar with it than with zombie apocalypse preparations, but go on—how does this relate?”
“I can’t handle a lot of face-to-face all the time, that’s all. I get . . . peopled out. I’d rather be like this. You know, comfortable.”
Comfortable? Not talking, reading in silence? She’d never spent a more uncomfortable evening with someone she was dating. Wait, were they dating?
“You’re not saying anything,” he pointed out.
“I’m just thinking,” she said, caressing his leg absentmindedly. “I just don’t . . . I don’t get it.”
“That’s okay,” he said, putting down his book. “It must be hard being neurotypical. I’ll teach you.” Kyle pulled her into his arms, tipping them back to hold her on the couch. “You know, secretly, I have always admired this shirt, but now that I’ve touched it and I know how scratchy it is, I don’t know how you can wear this.”
She chuckled into his cotton-clad shoulder: Cotton. Always cotton. She’d never seen him in anything else, come to think of it, when he wasn’t at work. “I think it’s polyester,” she said, twisting and craning her neck to see the label.
“Ugh. That explains it.”
Ainsley laughed. “What’s wrong with polyester?”
“Besides feeling like fire? Itchy, terrible, caustic synthetics? Besides all that, you mean?”
“Naturally, I thought those things were a given,” she said, tickling his ribs, and he jerked away from her.
“Hey!”
“Hey what?”
“Don’t tickle me. That’s not cool.” To her mild surprise, he pulled her closer, laying her over his body. “You’ll get used to it. Come on.” With a little shifting and scootching, he made room for her on the couch. She lay with her back against his chest, her head on his shoulder. Kyle handed her back her book. “Now read.” He put his arm around her, letting his hand rest on her belly, holding his e-reader with his other hand. Ainsley opened the book again and tried to figure out where she was . . . Five pages later, she was still distracted. But he wasn’t wrong; she was getting used to it. Twenty pages in, she’d sunk into his warm embrace, her breathing slow and deep, her mind completely absorbed by the fantasy world she’d entered in the book, even as her body rested with Kyle. She’d never known reading could be a contact sport. When he stood up to leave, she was genuinely sad.
Ainsley’s phone buzzed with a text, and she groaned.
“It’s my mom. My dad must have told her about the . . . trailer thing.”
Kyle grinned, and he was so good-looking, she wanted to take a picture of him, just like that and frame it. Put it on her mantel. Or even better, on her nightstand.
“She wants us to come over for dinner.”
“Okay.” He was putting on his jacket now, zipping it up to his neck. She’d really expected more resistance, and it threw her off for a moment. She really could not read him at all sometimes.
“Um, okay. How’s Friday night?”
“Don’t you have the town meeting Friday night?”
“Oh. Yes. Um, Saturday night, then. Are you coming to the build?”
“Yes, I’m looking forward to it.” He dropped another sweet kiss on her lips. “Especially the cleanup.” He kissed her again, like he couldn’t help himself.
Ainsley grinned. “Me too. But let’s try not to get locked in this time . . .”
“Best date I ever had,” he returned as he shut the front door behind him.