“Thanks.” I inhaled with a happy sigh. “Sure you don’t want to join us?”
“I’m on my way out.” A muscle twitched in his left cheek. “You’re not the only one with a date.”
“Here.” I forced him to take the money. “Buy yourself a drink stronger than water this time.”
Midas took the cash, careful not to touch me, and I got the message loud and clear.
I had eye-contact privileges, not skin privileges, proving Iliana had been right.
The miasma of charms she wore must have amplified Midas’s miniscule interest in me, and mine in him.
’Cause no way was he getting a free pass unless I got one too.
No wonder Ford was in such a good mood. Midas’s mark must have finally worn off me.
“I should go.” He folded the bill and tucked it into his pocket. “Enjoy your night.”
“You too,” I said, even though we both knew he wouldn’t.
After crossing to the futon, I dropped the stack of boxes heavy with pizza and wings on the floor beside Ford.
Slapping his hand when he reached for the wings, I warned, “Do not eat all this before I get back.”
“Back?” He stretched out his legs. “Where are you going?”
“Just give me a second, okay?” I barreled into the hall. “Midas.”
The elevator doors were closing, and I was too late, and it shouldn’t matter, and Ford was waiting…
Midas’s scarred arm shot through the gap, and my heart did this stupid little flip.
“Hadley?” Midas held the door. “What’s wrong?”
I jogged the rest of the way, stumbling at his expression, what I thought I saw there. “I just wanted to say you have my number if you need a rescue.”
“You’re on a date,” he reminded me, “with Ford.”
“A friend date, not a date-date.”
“Mine is a date-date.”
“I know, I just…” I dug the toe of my sneaker into the carpet. “I wanted to tell you that.”
Mortification was slow in coming, but it got there, and I flushed, embarrassed to have run after him.
I walked back down the hall, toward my apartment, as fast as I could and shut the door behind me.
“I started without you,” Ford said, his mouth full of pizza. “Hope that’s okay.”
Grateful when he didn’t bring up the topic of my mad dash, though I was certain he overheard it all thanks to the door I hadn’t bothered closing, I sank beside him and got comfy.
“A gwyllgi with no self-control around food? Whodathunkit?” I palmed the remote with reverence for the ridiculously expensive TV it controlled for my viewing pleasure. “Now, on to matters more important than how many slices you left me. Do you want to watch Robot Groundhog Saves the Earth from His Alien Shadow or The Thing That Came from the Basement?”
“Gee.” He took a wing, gnawing on the bone before sucking out the marrow. “That’s a tough one.”
“I’m feeding you, don’t disrespect me.”
“Robot Groundhog.”
“Excellent choice.”
I flipped off the lights, and we settled in to watch a man wearing a silver groundhog suit do battle with a woman whose left leg kept coming out of her shadow costume.
We ate tons of food, talked and laughed, and generally had a good time. If he asked a few questions that toed the line of professional curiosity, I decided I preferred that to more personal ones.
When the night came to an end, I fit a hug into the space where he hoped for more, if the look in his eyes was any indication. He took rejection well, kissing me on the cheek before he left. All in all, it was a very nice night with a very nice guy, and I ought to feel very good about it.
I did feel good about it.
Sure I did.
Of course I did.
A metallic rattle drew my attention to the window, my preferred exit, and my heart stopped when a dark shadow—not Ambrose—flickered on the other side of the glass. Summoning my darker half, I palmed my swords and advanced slowly.
There I found a gwyllgi curled up on my fire escape, right outside my window, like he was guarding me.
Or like he was lonely.
That last thought had me throwing open the window and meeting his crimson stare.
“Rough night?”
The fact Midas came to me on four legs instead of two, in a form that couldn’t speak, wasn’t lost on me.
The gwyllgi huffed, not bothering to lift his head off his front paws.
“I have leftover pizza and wings.”
Glancing past me, he gazed into my apartment.
“You can come in, or I can come out.”
He patted the metal with his paw, and I took the hint.
“Do you want your food warmed up?”
A man after my own heart, he shook his head.
“You can’t go wrong with cold pizza.” I ducked back in the apartment. “Be right back.”
I got down my largest mixing bowl and filled it to the brim with water then stacked half of the leftover pizza and wings on a baking sheet to carry out with me. Loaded down with treats, I climbed out onto the fire escape and placed the offerings within easy reach of him before settling in with my back against the building.
Midas ate while I watched the sunrise, both of us content with the silence.
I must have dozed off after I shut my eyes to hide from the light spreading across the horizon.
I woke alone, Midas’s visit a dreamlike memory, except for the two words written in the reddish pepperoni grease on the baking sheet.
Thank you.
Him coming to me after what I was certain had been a disaster of a date meant nothing.
Me going to him after I set Ford firmly back in the friend zone meant nothing.
Just like the marking thing meant absolutely nothing at all.
But for a whole lot of nothing, it sure felt like…something.