Page 56 of Pixie Problems
There were no self-help classes for people such as I, who desperately needed to learn how to flirt and not sound like I was hawking up a hairball. I had no desire to bat my eyelashes, they would probably fall out or something, and I had no desire to be coy. What Ididwant was to state clearly and concisely that I was grateful for him. That I appreciated him. That I was falling for him.
But the words wouldn’t come.
Thankfully, because Rhys was tuned in to my parasite, he could feel some of what I wanted to convey, and his smile turned even more tender.
“Me too, angel,” he whispered.
I blinked quickly, and then pulled my hands back as our meals were delivered. Naut went to town on his t-bone, and I chose to sink my teeth into my sumptuous lasagna first.
Rhys tucked his linen napkin into the front of his sweater, and I laughed. “Messy eater?”
“Every single time. I can’t go anywhere without staining my clothes.”
I shook my head. “Poor Rhys. We’ll housebreak you yet.”
His eyes turned molten. “What if I don’t want to be housebroken?”
Zingwent the liquid in my veins. I nearly choked on my lasagna but managed to take a huge drink from my water and prevent my imminent demise. Or worse yet, intense mortification.
I narrowed my eyes at him as he smiled beatifically at me.Yeah, I got your number, star elf.
The lasagna was rich and meaty with an amazing sauce and lots of gooey cheese. Rhys and I split our plates and I tried his spaghetti carbonara and moaned. I was in love with this restaurant. I’d never had Italian food that was this amazing.
Rhys and I chatted lightly about nonsense things for a bit. After I’d finished my lasagna, I pulled my chicken parmigiana toward me and took a bite. Rhys laughed at the look on my face, which I guessed roughly translated into the fact that I wanted to marry the chef who’d made my food. I would weigh eighty tons, but I would be happy.
Rhys spooned some of his artichoke dip into a clean white bowl and cut the crusty baguette in half. He slid it across the table. When I finished my water, he poured some of his blackberry virgin mojito into my glass.
The conversation turned more serious. “Where were you born?
I could see him freeze from the corner of my eye as I ripped a piece of the baguette off and dipped it into the warm and spicy artichoke dip. Ah, his birth place had something to do with the pain he carried around.
“Glacier Falls. It’s the paranormal town near Interlaken in Switzerland.”
“It sounds like it’d be beautiful. I’ve seen pictures of Switzerland. It’s gorgeous.” I didn’t want to push if he didn’t want to share. I could be plenty pushy, but not when it involved others in pain.
“It is. It’s surrounded by dense forests, with alpine meadows, glaciers, rivers and lakes. There’s a ton of hiking around there, and the air is clean and cold. Even sometimes in the summer if the temps never get above the 50s, which they occasionally don’t.”
I drank some of the mojito and nearly groaned aloud. This place was addicting. I wondered if I could order food to-go from here. Probably not. I’d seen the prices of the meals here. The likelihood they offered take-out was pretty nil.
“What was it like growing up in an entirely paranormal town? I can’t even imagine what that was like. Most of the people around The Circle P were human.” Except Hux’s pack, of course.
“Idillic in many ways.” He sat back in his seat and sipped the remainder of his virgin mojito. “Exclusive paranormal communities are a little bit like small town living. They’re small enough to be charming, but not so small that everyone knows everyone else’s business.” He smiled. “Paranormals tend to gossip.”
I was starting to get full, which was a real bummer considering I still had half my chicken parmigiana left. I dumped it into Naut’s bowl and he almost inhaled it, he ate it so quickly. “Slow down, Naut,” I admonished him as I petted the silky fur around his neck.
He ignored me. Rightfully so, the food was delicious. I would’ve ignored me too.
I sat back as well. “And your family? Are you still close?” I was prying, I knew I was. But just a little bit. He was very closed off about his family. I told myself if he avoided my direct question, I would leave it.
In other words, I lied to myself.
The hand that held his glass clenched, and spiderweb cracks in the glass formed. Before it shattered in his hand, he set it gingerly down on the table. “My mom and dad moved to Italy. They wanted to live in a warmer climate.”
Okay, I was officially done pushing. I reached for his hand, and he took it gently, his fingers entwining with my own. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to know more about you. About your past.”
He swallowed. “I want to tell you, I do. Give me a bit, okay?”
Pain was back in his boysenberry eyes. I nodded. It was no longer a silent question between us. It was out in the open, and he wanted to tell me, to let me in. He just wasn’t quite ready yet, and I respected that.
