Page 3 of Dating A Fae
At least Rain always takes things in stride and chuckles. “I’m glad Johnny accepted the invite.”
Of course he keeps quiet on what his typeis. Not that I asked.
Rain moans as he chews his first bite. He’s always doing that, making me and everyone in a fifty foot radius blush when he eats sweets. “I have a few more clients today. Not many, so I’m taking walk-ins if anyone’s interested in cuddles.” He hands me his schedule.
“Alright, I’ll let you know if anyone’s interested.”
“Thank you muchly.” Rain rents a room from me for his professional cuddling business. He proposed an awesome deal so I accepted. Seven years later we’re still going strong.
With a nod, he strides to his hot pink door. He helped me decide what colors to paint the place. Before he got ahold of the neons, Faerie Good Coffee had been drab in browns and grays. The bright colors suit me much better.
The rest of the day goes too slowly for my taste. My only clientele is the city’s supernatural community, which is much bigger than people would expect for Southern Indiana. But the cafe isn’t my only job. Faerie Good Coffee is also home to a portal between the human world and Faelands, and I’m its keeper. Not that being the guardian is too involved most of the time. I get missives when someone wants through, so I can prepare. No one’s come for weeks. Every few years someone forbidden to travel tries to get through, but an age old fae charm handed down from the royal mage rejects anyone who’s not supposed to travel the portal.
Some days I could pinch myself because I’m so lucky. I have my own business and my king trusts me. I had decades worth of education to get the job as portal keeper. Then there were tests of all sorts. Magic, language, diplomacy, to name a few. Not just anyone can be in charge of a gate. One must be able to blend with humans and supes, and I do that well. All of the supes I know do. It’s required to live free in the human world. Humans cannotknow supernaturals exist.
Hoping to have most clean up done early, I sanitize each table as they become available. I have the most conscientious patrons, they never overstay their welcome. When the clock strikes five thirty I flip the open sign to closed. Rain left the hour before to hit the gym and maybe grab a sexy snack before he comes back for game night.
I push a few tables together to give us enough space to eat as a group, then head to the kitchen to decide on snacks.
What would Johnny like? Besides sugar cookies. I decide on mini quiches to go with the pizza and grab the ingredients from the fridge.
I often find myself daydreaming about Johnny. We’ve known each other for years, but only in the cafe setting. He was a fresh faced high school senior when he started showing up. I paid him little attention until a few years ago when I realized he grew the fuck up. He’s still the awkward shy guy, but I don’t think he knows how hot he is now.
I’m centuries older than him and shouldn’t have a puppy crush on what amounts to a kid when compared to someone like me. But I always wonder… is his hair soft? What will we talk about at game night? When will I hear his laugh again?
I’m worried about whether he’ll be able to relax with the group tonight. I hope he enjoys himself. If not, I hope he forgives me and allows me another chance to try and woo him.
Chapter 3
Johnny
My stomach churns with nerves. All the nerves.SO. MANY. NERVES.
It’s okay. I got this. It’s game night with other supes. It’ll be fun. Milton invited me, so he must think I’ll fit in, right?
The work day went quickly. It’s only six pm, and I need the time because I can’t decide what to wear.
I stare at my reflection in my bathroom mirror. My dark hair has a curl I can’t get rid of no matter the style, and there’s always one cowlick I can never tame. It taunts me now, curling softly above my left eyebrow. Whining, I wet it down, hoping beyond hope it’ll magically stay straight.
Before I get more irritated with my hair, I leave the bathroom and stomp to my walk-in closet. I yank shirts off their hangers and try them on only to drop them to the floor. Nothing looks right.
I’m overthinking this. T-shirt and jeans. That’s all I need.
Of course. Simple. With that settled, I grab a plain heather blue t-shirt that’s the softest material I’ve ever felt in my life and slide it on. Then tug on a pair of jeans I know makes my ass look amazing.
I don’t bother with checking myself in the mirror again, I’ll just get frustrated with the annoying curl so best to not look.
At night, normies can see the glow I put out as a Will-o’-the-wisp. Which is damn inconvenient. Whenever I leave the house after dark I have to cover up. I yank on my thin gray windbreaker, though it’ll still be light out for a bit. The hood is what I need most and haven’t found anything better.
Even though Milton said to just bring myself, I don’t want to show up empty-handed. Mama didn’t raise someone ungrateful. There’s nothing at the apartment I can repurpose to use as a host gift, but I have the perfect idea for one.
The drive to the little kitchen shop takes about ten minutes.
A bell chimes as I walk in, the scent of spices hits my nose. I know where I’m going and head straight for the huge selection of aprons on the back wall. I sort through them all several times until I decide on one I’m happy with. It’s a full white apron with embroidered butterflies in blues and violets. Very springtime and the craftsmanship is exquisite. Milton will look lovely wearing it. He’s lovely wearing anything.
I think of him wearing nothingbutthe apron, and my brain freezes. Heat flares over my cheeks. My imagination paints such a pretty picture of Milton flushed, his hard cock tenting the apron. I cough into my fist to reset my thoughts.
Happy with my selection, I check out and head back to my car. I can’t wait to see Milton’s face. He’s so cute and so kind. And… my heart rate shoots through the roof.Whydid I accept? Who am I to join his game night?
