Page 9 of Dragon, Actually
I twine my fingers through his so we can skate side-by-side. “I’ll tell you a secret, but don’t let it go to your head. You’re obnoxiously good at that, too.”
After a dozen more exhilarating laps (and a handful of ungraceful falls on my part), we ditch the skates in favor walkingaround the city. It’s much easier to talk on foot than on skates, for one, and it’s fun exploring a part of the city I don’t usually frequent. Myrran seems like he’s been here before, though, because he keeps pointing out landmarks and commenting on the restaurants we pass.
“Is your hive in this neighborhood?” I ask.
He squeezes my hand. “Yeah! You want to see it? Everyone would love to meet you. They were really excited when I told them about you.”
“Really excited about your first date with the department-store-giftwrap girl?” I giggle. He’s obviously exaggerating to be sweet. I can’t help feeling a little intimidated by the thought of meeting a whole hive of dragons when I barely know Myrran. Especially with damp knees from falling on the ice and a giant hole in the crotch of my pants. A little worry slips into my voice. “Did you tell them that I’m human?”
“Hey.” He pulls me into an embrace, pausing in the middle of the sidewalk and forcing the other pedestrians to detour around us. “They don’t care what species you are. We don’t have to go right now if you’re not ready, though. It was just an idea. I have a better one, anyway. I saw a place nearby you’re really going to like.”
He leads me on a zig-zag path through the city to a little churrería a few blocks away. The scent of chocolate and cinnamon greets us, and we slide into a booth near the frosted window. Snowflakes swirl outside, but inside it it’s warm and cozy. The scraps of Spanish slipping out of the kitchen make me feel even more at home.
“You’re right, I do really like it here,” I tell him as I scan the menu packed full of my most coveted childhood treats.
“What do you recommend?” he asks, frowning at his copy of the menu. “I’m not sure what all this stuff is, to be honest.”
“I got you.” Remembering his gluten allergy, I skip the churros and order us both Mexican hot chocolate. Our mugs arrive complete with an obscene amount of whipped cream and a drizzle of chili-caramel sauce. Myrran sips his, eyes widening at the complex, spicy flavor.
“Oh wow,” he says, eyes lighting up above his new whipped-cream mustache. “I wasn’t expecting something so interesting when you handed me a hot chocolate. This is fantastic. Sweet, spicy, lots of depth.”
“Kind of like me,” I crack.
He nods slowly. “Just what I was thinking. People probably assume you’re just a pretty face, running around to modeling jobs and tying bows, but you’re a lot more than that.”
“Aw, thanks.” I sip my chocolate, enjoying the warm, comforting slide down my throat. “Wait a minute. How did you know I model?”
He freezes, looking slightly panicked. Oh no…poor guy. He got caught. I stifle a giggle. “Did you google me?”
His shoulders sag, and he rubs the base of one of his horns. “Yeah. I saw your portfolio on your agency’s website. Is that okay?”
“I definitely looked you up as soon as I found out your name. Not too many dragons named Myrran in this city.”
He raises one eyebrow. “Oh really? What’d you find out?”
“Let’s see.” I tick off items I found on social media on my fingers. “You’re one of the best flame grillers in the city. Won a few awards, got featured in the newspaper. Attended what I think was a dragon bachelor party that involved getting arrested after passing out on the beach.”
He grimaces. “Don’t judge me. That was a few years ago. I was still learning to control my shift while under the influence.”
I giggle. “No worries. Been there, done that when it comes to bachelorette parties. What else…you take a lot of pictures of yourfood. Oh yeah, and you’re a proud uncle of twin nieces who do aerial gymnastics.”
“They’re really good,” he enthuses, his whole face brightening. “I take them to practice on Thursday afternoons, rain or shine. We all kind of take turns with the kids at the hive to give their parents a break. I love hanging out with them on my days off.”
My heart squeezes. That reminds me of life back home. My mom and dad own the walnut orchard, but my aunts and uncles have homes dotted around the huge property. All of us cousins were always at one house or another so our parents could work or relax. I like that Myrran is so involved with his family and community. Not everybody understands how important that is.
“So,” he says, propping his elbows on the table. “What do you usually do on your days off?”
I snort. Between modeling go-sees and Hoardstrom’s shifts, I don’t have much free time. “Laundry?”
“Nothing fun?”
“Not unless you count sitting on my couch and watching Netflix as fun.”
Under the table, his tail curls around my ankle and squeezes, raising goosebumps on my skin. “It’d be fun if it was with you.”
“It would be,” I say, biting my lip as my cheeks heat up, imagining what it’d be like to snuggle with him. His big, clawed hands on me. “Too bad you can’t kiss me right now.”
His smile fades into something more serious, his gaze holding mine. “I would really like that.”
