“I’m just happy to spend this time with you.” He smiles.
My cheeks feel warm almost instantly, and the feeling of butterflies fills my stomach—a sensation I haven’t felt in years. Honestly, I thought I had lost that ability.
I brush aside the fluttering, trying to stay as stone cold as possible. “You were going to tell me how you aren’t a completely shitty genie?”
He isn’t shaken at all, instead, he has a charming smile on. One that only makes my heart beat faster.
“Yes, I was.” His voice is smooth and sultry, his eyes darting around my face. “Before people like me—so-called monsters—were actually welcomed to society, we lived in secret.”
I blink at him, but say nothing; am I getting a history lesson, or an explanation?
“Back then,” he continues, “I granted wishes with complete accuracy. Still for a price, but always accurately.”
Tilting my head, I press, “So, what changed?”
“When I integrated into society, people still wanted wishes—and I wanted to grant them—but no one was interested inme.” His eyes shift, the light gray losing some of its shine.
Suddenly, my heart aches for him. This isn’t the answer I expected, and it’s making me feel bad about my initial opinion of him.
Granted, Ididsee him make a man’s penis pop out of his pants. Even so, the reasoning almost makes me want to forget about it.
Almost.
When I don’t say anything, he continues. “So, I started to scam people, I guess would be the term. Twisting wishes ever so slightly if people weren’t careful with their wording.”
“Did you do that to everyone?” I ask, resting my cheek on one of my hands.
He shakes his head. “No. I didn’t scam elderly people, or those who I could tell had pure intentions. People looking solely for their own gain, or just had silly wishes, though? Yeah, I scammed them.”
Well, at least he seems to have some sort of code he grants wishes by, meaning he isn’t acompletetrickster.
“I’ll be honest, I rarely feel bad about messing up people’s wishes,” he reveals, his eyes not leaving mine. “But when I saw your face after the last wish I granted…”
Is he saying that for the first time in forever, he felt bad…and because ofme? I didn’t even mean to make him feel bad.
Why doIeven affect him? He doesn’t know me. I’m no one important, at least not in his life.
I open my mouth to say something, but the server approaches the table. Snapping my lips shut, I quickly scan the menu.
Arman gestures toward me, so I order first. Once I’m done, he places his own, the silence that follows laced with anticipation for the waiter to leave. The moment they turn and take one step away, my eyes are locked back onto Arman.
“The point is, I want to change my ways—or at least, try to.” He gives me a smile, his shoulders falling.
I ask the only question that lingers in my mind. “Why?”
“Because of you,” he answers simply.
The server arrives seconds later with our drinks and food. The service is quick here at Brady’s Diner. So fast, I can’t help wondering if there’s some sort of monster magic involved.
It’s also been so long since I’ve been out, I had forgotten how nice it was to have someone cook for you.
I take a sip of my water before getting back to the matter at hand.
“But why?” I press, narrowing my eyes.
He shrugs, his smile grows a bit cheekier, and something in his eyes shifts. “Why, did you think of a wish you want granted?”
Is thatseriouslywhat he thinks I want here? Clearly, I’ve been misreading everything, and this is not a date by any means.
