“You’re that same guy who never wanted to talk about his feelings, oranyone’sfeelings, because feelings are hard and messy and you want things to beeasy. Congratulations! You did it! Everything’s easy for you now, Arthur. Including people. Everybody falling over themselves to please you, nobody ever digging deeper. Which is what you always wanted! How does it feel, movie star? Does it feel good? Forming a lot of long-lasting, deep connections in Hollywood? Or is everything all—all bright and breezy and no strings attached, let’s not talk about anythinghard, let’s not try to see each other because that’s so mucheasier.”
She stopped, panting. Her eyes were burning again.
Arthur stared down at his risotto. She’d expected him to look surprised. And he did, for a moment. But only for a moment. His wings flexed behind him self-consciously. There was a terrible second where she was sure he would shoot her with a cocky grin, the way he did at the very start of their relationship before they knew each other well.
But he didn’t. There was the faintest twitch as if he was considering it. But then he just looked at her. No smile, no bullshit.
Emma shivered. His eyes were golden and warm andfartoo piercing. She’d forgotten how spellbinding he could be when he dropped those goddamn walls and focused entirely on her.
“And I know who you are,” he said, his voice devastatingly soft. “Under all this.”
“Underwhat?”
He nodded at her—arms crossed tight over her chest, her face twisted in a scowl.
“You’re still the same sweet, passionate girl who uses anger to hide how much she cares,” he said quietly. “The same girl who needs to unwind with Cool Whip andCasablancaafter a long day. Who takes care of what’s hers and fights for…for what she cares about.”
Something brushed Emma’s leg. She jumped, looking down to see his tail trailing over her knee. The scales were neat and shiny, just like always. He kept them pristine, just like his wings. She used to rub oil into his feathers and clip his scales. He probably got the help to do that now.
That gleaming tail curled around her thigh.
“You really should just come out and say it plain,” he said. “I know you haven’t been getting what you need.”
Emma’s cheeks heated. She wanted to think it was from indignation, but she knew better—it was the same old reason she got flustered when he got close. Like he was doing right now, his breath minty and warm as he leaned over the table.
“The hell do you know about my needs?” she asked, distantly impressed by how unaffected she sounded. Like there wasn’t heat pooling between her legs. Like she wasn’t pouring every ounce of willpower into not staring at his mouth.
Arthur smiled, soft and small andknowing. His right wing ducked down, feathers brushing her hot cheek.
Emma shivered. It was useless pretending she didn’t. He could probablysmellhow wet she was, the keen-nosed bastard.
He grinned, all those sharp teeth on full display. “Want me to show you?”
CHAPTERSEVEN
Arthur waited, his breath frozen in his chest.
It was entirely possible he had misread this. He hoped he hadn’t. But twelve years was a long time, and she wasstillstaring at him. Maybe she would throw the risotto in his face. Both bowls, for good measure. Grind the bread to crumbs in his mane and storm out into the snow and make him run out after her and argue until she let him fly her down the mountain.
She lunged, jarring the table so hard that risotto splattered over the tablecloth he’d found in the linen closet. Arthur barely noticed, too occupied with her hands tangling in his shirt, her mouth a blazing pressure against his. He’d forgotten what kissing her was like when she was angry at him, when he successfully taunted her into leaping on him instead of cussing him out. It was glorious. He huffed a laugh against her lips.
She immediately pulled back, glaring. “What? Is this funny to you?”
“No,” he replied. “I just—”
Missed you. He clamped his jaw shut before he could say it. He’d started this tostopall the sincerity, not keep it going. To stop his stomach from doing that nervous squirming that had rarely happened since he left Claw Haven. And, he was starting to realize as she dug her fingers into his mane and pulled him back in, so he could make her smile.
Helovedmaking her smile. He hadn’t realized how much he missed it until he felt it against his lips. He’d dedicated most of his high school career to making her smile. Once or twice, he’d had the ludicrous thought that he was put on this earth to make Emma Curt smile.
He pulled her into his lap, sliding his hands up her smooth back. She smelled like coffee beans and, inexplicably, the same deodorant she’d worn in high school.Berry Blast. He nuzzled her neck, breathing in the scent he’d once known as much as his own.
“This isn’t…” Emma paused, moaning as he pressed a careful bite to her collarbone. “Thisisn’ta date.”
“Never,” he agreed. He rocked up against her, letting her feel his growing erection.
Her mouth dropped open, her face going hazy with desperation. She tried to cover it up, but it was too late. A low growl built in his chest, oddly possessive. She reallyhadn’tbeen getting what she needed. He knew the town wasn’t full of the best and brightest, but these idiots were really letting her go unsatisfied like this? What was Claw Haven coming to? And just when he’d been grudgingly starting to admit it wasn’t all bad.
He grabbed her ass and stood, heart jumping when her arms looped automatically around his neck. They’d done this before, after all. Muscle memory counted for a lot.
