Page 2 of Unfettered


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I can’t believe he is here. I guess we aren’t too far from the call center. But it’s not as if I go out much, and it’s so busy in here, what are the chances?

And how did he recognize me? My hand flies up to my hood. It’s still up, covering my head. My large dark sunglasses are on. He must be super observant.

“Long time no see!” he beams, as if running into me has made all his Christmases come at once.

I lick my lips.Yeah, sorry about that. I had to disappear and go on the run from the Paranormal Council because I went crazy andnearly opened an interdimensional portal that would have allowed the fey to conquer Earth.

“Feels like forever,” I say weakly.

Because of course I cannot say any of that. It sounds unhinged. Especially since Flyn is a mundane human. He thinks I’m fully human. He has no idea that vampires, werewolves, demons, or kelpies exist. He doesn’t know that I live with some. He is clueless about the paranormal world. Nevermind flinging the history of fey plots at him.

The only things I can ever tell him are lies.

“Let’s grab a coffee and catch up!” Flyn exclaims.

I glance down at his hands full of shopping bags. I haven’t made it to the phone shop yet, but I guess there is no rush. It will be open later. After I have coffee with Flyn.

A strange tingling sensation dances through me. Sitting in a coffee shop with Flyn sounds wonderful. It is what normal people do. Have coffee with old work friends.

If he flirts with me, it will be fine. He has always kept it respectful before. I can handle it. I won’t let it go to my head.

I smile up at him. “Great idea!”

His eyes lit up like I’m a genie who has just granted him a wish. His smile grows even bigger, and with a tilt of his head, he leads the way.

There are several coffee shops in the mall. He takes to one that is a little tucked away, and doesn’t seem to be a chain store. At least, it is not a big enough one that I’ve ever heard of it before.

He makes a beeline for a table in the corner by the window that a family has just left. He dumps his bags, grabs a tray and starts clearing the table. Once the tray is full and the table is empty, he turns to me.

“I’ll grab a cloth. You still a latte man?”

I nod wordlessly and slide into one of the chairs. How does he remember what coffee I like? I haven’t seen him for a year.

I watch him weave through the crowd and up to the counter. The frazzled looking girl serving takes the tray with a smile. Pink colors her cheeks. My heart thuds. Flyn is ridiculously handsome, so of course people are going to react to it. And he flirts with everyone. I swear most of the time it’s not even on purpose. He simply looks at you and your toes curl. It’s just one of those things. It’s completely ridiculous to feel envy over it.

I busy myself by tucking his bags neatly under the table. He’s left me in charge of his things and I’m going to take the responsibility seriously.

Flyn returns surprisingly quickly with a giant latte, and a huge concoction of whipped cream and drizzled chocolate. He also has a cloth draped over his elbow.

He quickly wipes down the table, places my drink in front of me, and puts his exuberant drink down. He returns the tray and cloth, and finally sits across from me with a contented sigh.

He sips his creamy chocolate creation through a stripy straw and I can’t stop smiling. The man looks like a jock. I’m sure he played some sort of violent sport at school and was captain of the team. He has the build for it. As well as the demeanor.

He is sitting there, legs spread wide, man-spreading to the extreme. While wearing a dark blue baseball cap backwards like it is the 90s. Yet he is also sipping a ridiculous drink. This is a man who very clearly has absolutely no insecurities whatsoever about his masculinity.

I take a careful sip of my latte. Goddess, that’s good. Trust him to know the very best coffee shop in town.

Flyn leans back in his chair. His muscles flex. The wood groans. He fixes me with the full wattage of his attention.

“So, man. What have you been up to?”

Oh fuck.

What the hell am I going to say?

Chapter two

Flyn