Page 33 of Dragon Thief of New York
“I’m… not sure.”
I trust what he told me about Damian, but there’s this vulnerable part of me that feels like I just had sex with a man without agreeing to it. It’s not entirely true, but it wasn’t this me—the me I am right now, with the memories I have in this moment—who agreed to it. I may not remember, but I can still feel the ache between my legs, the slight buzz of endorphins in my system.
My hands shake as I get dressed. Otto doesn’t leave my side. Like a puppy who knows you need comfort and stays by your feet to give it to you. It’s exactly what I need right now. He may have jumped the gun when he stole me off the streets of New York, but he’s been nothing but sweet and respectful since then. I’m surprised to find I’m not even a little mad at him anymore. I’m not about to let him know that yet, though.
By the time we’re dressed, Lincoln is already in the kitchen eating a bowl of cereal. I really love having a teenager. The self-sufficiency thing is super nice right now. He still needs me, buthe’s not entirely reliant on me the way he was as a kid. And I love that.
I give him a side-hug and ruffle his hair. “Hey, kiddo.”
“Hey, Mom.” He smiles a little awkwardly at Otto and gives him one of those upward chin lifts guys do. “Hey.”
Lincoln points to the counter, and I see my purse—the one I thought I lost yesterday.
“How did that—?”
“Someone dropped it off this morning,” Lincoln says. “It was on the mat when Damian left.”
“Guess there are still good people in the world.” I ruffle through the purse, surprised to find everything inside just as I left it. Including my phone, which is a huge relief.
While Otto and Lincoln chat, I stare out the window, thinking about Damien. I try to picture him, but nothing comes to me. Is his hair brown or blond? Does Lincoln look like him?
I glance over at Otto and my boy. Lincoln is showing him his latest sketch. A dragon. It looks a little like Otto in his shifted form, but also different. Really different. The two of them seem to have hit it off quickly. Maybe Lincoln needed an older male influence more than I realized. Not that Otto is that much older.
I laugh out loud at the ridiculousness of being with a younger man—one with piercings, tattoos, and a secret dragon identity. Both of them look at me like I’ve lost it, and maybe I have. This whole thing is so ridiculous. Two mates! Dragons!Lincoln’s father!
That last one sobers me up and steals the breath from my lungs. For years, I’ve wondered about Lincoln’s dad and been confused by what happened. Everyone assumed I was roofied, but that never fully made sense to me. I wasn’t at a party or anything like that. The last thing I remembered was being in class. I wasn’t drinking anything. And I didn’t just have one gap in my memory, but multiple blackouts that week. I even had a brain scan to make sure it wasn’t a tumor or something. Now, it all makes sense in a way I never could have possibly imagined.
“You okay?” Otto asks, a concerned wrinkle creasing his smooth brow.
“Yeah.” Smiling in a way that I hope is reassuring, I reach for the cereal and pour myself a bowl.
Otto and Lincoln go back to talking about a video game Otto’s helping design for his internship.
Maybe it’s okay that I don’t remember Lincoln’s father. I think Lincoln and I could make a nice little life with Otto. Maybe this is all we need. Lincoln doesn’t need to know his dad. As of yesterday, he kind of gained a new one. Sure, it wasn’t in the most conventional way, and I’m still not exactly sure how this is going to work, but despite myself, I like Otto. Strange as it is, he fits us well.
Besides, how would it even work if I remembered Damien? He’s my mate, too, but it’s not like I can be in a relationship with two men. Can I?
It wouldn’t work.
But my gut clenches as I think about how I would feel in Damian’s shoes. Who am I to rob him of a chance to get to know his son? And can I really keep Lincoln from knowing his father just because I don’t want to keep forgetting him?
We need to fix this. Not so that Damien and I can be together, but so Lincoln can have a full relationship with his dad—one I understand and know about.
The cereal on my spoon is soggy by the time I bring it to my mouth, but my resolve is firm.
Chapter 17
Otto
It’sbeenhourssinceDamian left, and he’s still not answering my calls. I grip the phone a little tighter as I hold it to my ear. His voicemail picks up again. Cursing under my breath, I don’t bother leaving another message. I’ve already left four.
Kat spent the last few hours helping Lincoln with a school project while I cleaned up the kitchen, then put in a load of laundry. She protested, but I did it anyway. I’m determined to spend the rest of my life serving her. I’ll take care of her every need, and Damian will spoil her rotten.
If he’d just answer his damn phone instead of running away.
Once the schoolwork has been cleaned up, Lincoln’s friend calls and he disappears into his bedroom. I take Kat’s hand and pull her to the couch. Sitting, I tug her down onto my lap.
She instantly tries to stand back up. “I can’t sit on your lap, Otto.”
