Once again his age was showing in his speech patterns. I didn’t know a single man who talked the way he did. “Fine.”
He smiled at me and brushed my hair out of my face. “Definitely cute.”
I rolled my eyes, which made him laugh. I liked the sound of it and the way his eyes lit up from within when he found something entertaining. Little by little, Rhys was opening up to me.
It dawned on me then that I didn’t know his last name. I thought about that as I lay on the sofa, staring at the ceiling and petting Satchel. I knew very little about him as a person, yet I felt a connection between us. We fit as though we were made to be together. His presence was so comforting, I felt very little of the nerves that plagued me during the beginning of the few relationships I’d had in college.
The fact that I couldn’t read Rhys’ emotions probably played a part as well. I did often wonder what he was thinking and feeling, but I felt no pressure to meet his unspoken expectations or bend over backwards to please him.
A few minutes later, Rhys returned with two steaming mugs and sat them down on the coffee table. “Ready to sit up?” he asked.
“Yes,” I stated firmly.
He smiled again and reached down to help me into a sitting position. My head did one long, lazy spin before my equilibrium settled and I felt somewhat normal. Satchel jumped down off my lap and pranced away, her tail twitching with pride.
Rhys sat down next to me and handed me one of the mugs. I blew on it and took a small sip. Surprisingly, the ratio of whiskey in the tea was perfect.
“You make excellent tea,” I commented, taking another sip and letting the hot, alcohol-laced liquid warm me.
“I’ve had quite a bit of practice.”
“What’s your last name, Rhys?” I asked, taking another sip.
“The name I’m using now or what I was called when I was made?”
He didn’t seem upset by my question, so I said, “Both.”
“Right now, all my identification says I’m Rhys Carey, but when Gaius, my creator, made me, I was called The Dark One or Rhys the Dark.”
“Because of your eyes?” I asked.
He nodded.
“What was your brother called?” I asked.
Rhys drank down a large swallow of his tea and I wondered if he’d put whiskey in his as well. “The Slayer.”
My brows rose. “That doesn’t sound good.”
He huffed out a bitter laugh. “It wasn’t.”
I let the topic drop and we drank our tea in silence for a while. When I finished mine, I set the mug to the side and looked at him. “As far as first dates go, I think this one was a little rough.”
He grinned at me. “I’d have to agree. Maybe we should consider dates that are less stressful for you,” he suggested.
“The only date that would be less stressful is if we stayed here at my house.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do.”
I studied him, uncertain of his sincerity. “Are you sure?”
“I’m not interested in what restaurants we go to or movies we see. I’m interested inyou. I want to know you.”
I liked the way he said it. “Okay, then we’ll spend time together at my house.” Satchel returned to the living room and sat at Rhys’ feet, batting his shin with her paw. “And I think Satchel would like that too.”
Rhys smiled down at my cat. “I’m looking forward to it.” When his eyes returned to mine, a shiver went down my spine. “We’ll start tomorrow.”
“You could stay and watch a movie with me tonight,” I invited.
