Page 18 of Dragon Unleashed
I sigh. “Truly.”
I watch as his expression hardens into resolve. “In that case, we must find out what brought me here so we can learn how to return me to my world.”
“Or we can skip directly to the part where I send you back.”
“You say you don’t know how.”
“I don’t, but somewhere in this library is the answer, and I’m just the girl to find it.”
He doesn’t look convinced. And while I can’t blame him—right now, I’m just some random chick who is currently sewing him pants—I can’t help but be a little put off by his lack of confidence. Does no one believe in me? Then again, why the hell am I surprised? I don’t even believe in myself.
I finish off my current line of stitching and then hold up my masterpiece. The sweatpants material was supposed to be for a matching set for myself—top and bottom. But it’s barely enough for one pair of bottoms for Aries. Still, stretchy waist, two leg holes that will hopefully cover his calves... they’ll do.
“Put these on,” I tell him, handing them over.
“What is it?” he asks, and I stop short at the horrified look he wears.
My brows lift. “Sweatpants.”
His gaze flicks to me. “I’ve offended you.”
“Look, I literally have nothing else to offer, and I am not sure my future self will agree, but I need you to cover yourself so I can look you in the eye.” He hesitates. “They’re popular in this world, okay?” I usher him into my bedroom before he can insult my creative ability further and shut the door.
While Aries navigates human clothes, I head for the kitchen. Not that I have any idea what a dragon eats, but hopefully, it’s something frozen and laden with cheese because that’s about all I’ve got.
With the oven preheating for a frozen pizza, I whirl toward the fridge and stop short. Aries stands in the kitchen doorway, the sweatpants riding low on his perfect hips. My blanket is in his hand, but I can barely tear my eyes from the delicious “V” leading straight down to an area I would love to get up close and personal with.
“Is this okay?” he asks.
Mother of...
“It’s fine,” I practically pant the word. “It’s more than fine.”It’s fucking delicious.
I’m also aware I’ve just played right into the book boyfriend stereotype I snubbed my nose at earlier. Low-slung sweatpants below a perfectly shaped set of washboard abs? It doesn’t get more basic than that. And I can’t even be mad about it. Not now that I’m seeing it in the flesh.
“I can find something else,” he says uncertainly. I’ve been staring too long. I know it; I just can’t help it. He clears his throat. “Perhaps I should put this blanket back on—”
“No, no.” I wave him off. “It’s really fine. They look good.”
So, so good.
I swallow hard.
“Are you preparing a meal?”
His question yanks me out of the thirst trap I’m caught in, and I glance at the pizza I’ve yet to put in the oven.
“Yes, preparing a meal,” I say, trying to normalize my breathing as I go to work unwrapping the pizza. When that’s done, I grab a bottle of wine off the counter. I look up in time to see Aries frowning at it.
“I prefer ale with mine.”
“Oh, you prefer it, do you? I have White Claw and a bottle of Captain Morgan. Take your pick.”
His expression is actually kind of hilarious. “You drink claws?”
“For the love of... here.” I grab the bottle of rum from the cabinet and hand it over.
He doesn’t move to take it, and I roll my eyes, going for a glass.
