“I’m doing it again,” I mumbled miserably, scowling at the fizzing soda in my hand.
“Doing what again?” he asked, and then he was right there.
Ugh. I was a total green youth around him when I felt off. Leaves sprouted through my shirt and sweater, unfurling to tremble as his hand came over mine and he plucked the nearly empty, burst can from my grasp.
“Ruining everything.” My face screwed up as my shoulders slumped.
“Aster, my blossom,” he murmured, “what in Mordenne are you talking about?”
“Our date,” I choked out, then let out a blustery sigh. “I’m ruining it again.” My eyes squeezed shut tight as I forced the pounding in my heart to slow. “This is worse than last time.”
“Youruining it? Again?” he spluttered. “This couldn't possibly be worse than the last time,” he whispered fiercely, his tone incredulous, “and not one lick of that was your fault.”
“You don’t- You don’t still talk to her, do you?” I dared to ask after a long moment. Popping an eye open, eyeing the funny look he was sporting, he was looking kind of lost. That knot in my gut grew.
“To who? The server at Three B Q’s?” Frowning, nearly scowling, he blinked.
He thought I was referring to the restaurant incident earlier today. “Yes, pickle,” I mumbled dryly, “the server I can barely recall from lunch.”
And then the little lightbulb went off over his head, right as he flushed with mortified color from his head to every visible part of his person, until he almost looked like a watermelon with the pink and green stripes covering him.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I’m being ugly. That wasn’t kind.”
“I’m the one who should be apologizing. I really am sorry I overlooked you so easily at first. I thought you were carrying my mate’s scent, not that you could actually be my mate. I wasn’t thinking straight- Hadn’t even thought that your scent might change- I-.”
“Hold on.” Shaking my head, I had to get my head out of my Once Upon A Time, Happily Ever After daydreaming butt. Of course I wanted him to love me at first sight, or even sight unseen, but that wasn’t reality. It wasn’t for me, at least. “I’m sorry,” I apologized again. “I’ve been going about this from my own perspective, from what it’s all been like from my own personal point of view. Not once did I take into consideration how odd this all might be, have been, for you.”
“But I-”
“No.” My hand lifted, staying anything he might try to come at me with. I needed to say this, have it said, and maybe we could both move past everything from before and get completely focused on the now. “I’d always thought I’d find my Prince Charming, and he’d be perfect, and he’d take one look at me and just know, you know?” My scowl lightened as I got all of this off my chest, and ate a little crow. “You must have thought I was some crazy lady, all goo-goo eyed and jabbering happily. I’d read into so many things,” my gaze darted away from his and I would have grabbed another can to clean it up but he stilled my hand, urging me to continue. “I was convinced- I was just- And then you were- Well, you- You were just-”
“I was just what?” he asked softly.
My hand lifted, brushing my hair away from my face as my head dipped.
“Aster?”
“You were just… perfect.” My gaze darted to meet his, searching it for understanding. He looked pained.
“I’m far from perfect. Perfectly blind to what’s right in front of me, perhaps,” he muttered. Curling me towards him, he placed a kiss to my forehead. It was so sweet a rumble rattled my chest that had him chuckling. “I happen to think you’re perfect,” he murmured as I gave in and buried my nose in his nape, wrapping my arms around him, and his chest rumbled contentedly. We looked ridiculous, him squatting, hovering to hug me, while I kneeled in sticky soda mess. What a pair we made.
“I think this is what it’s really like,” I mumbled into his shirt front.
“What what’s like?”
It was on the tip of my tongue to use the L word, but I said instead, “The good stuff.”
“Thisisthe good stuff,” he agreed. Something was off once more, as if he’d anticipated I was going to go with my first answer and he was painfully aware of my hesitation. Could anyone blame me?
“We should probably get up and clean this all up,” I said after a long moment.
“Probably,” he agreed, though neither of us made any move to separate or get up.
“Soonish,” I teased.
“As soon as I have feeling back in my calves. They started burning but you were upset,” he admitted with a self-deprecating laugh. “I didn’t want to move.”
“Thank you.”
