Audrey had started throwing together a casserole for all of us, which meant that she made one for us and one for him.
I was playing music more often and relied on the grounding that instruments brought me. I couldn’t correctly remember the melody I heard in Hyvenmere, though, and it was irritating me more and more. No instrument I played compared to the song in the air. Everything felt off. I wasn’t even sure I was remembering the cadence correctly.
About a week later, I was gently tapping away on the drums set up in the far corner of Sun Bean and part of me considered asking Audrey to go back there, just to walk around. I was confident I wouldn’t even have to leave my boat, as soon as we traveled through the Mellhawn Gates, I would surely hear the melody again.
Yesterday, when I asked Audrey if she had heard the gentle song in the air whenever she visited Hyvenmere, she gave me a funny look and shook her head. I haven’t brought it up with her again.
I wanted to feel more connected to Audrey, but I didn’t want to concern her with the possibility that learning about Hyvenmere may or may not be driving me insane.
However, I knew her secret now. I couldn’t forget that night I was attacked on my boat. I couldn’t forget the gifts Audrey had. Or the giant fae prince who often lounged on our couch and ate all our food.
No, I couldn’t pretend I didn’t know any of this, but part of me wondered what this meant. I wanted to support Audrey and this new adventure of hers, but was that just because I wanted to be close to my friend? Did I want these gates to be open between our realms? Those men who attacked me were dangerous, and even though I was lucky enough to hold them off until Audrey showed up, who knows how other creatures would react to being here?
The front door opened on the far side of Sun Bean, and I glanced up to smile at the new customer. The man tilted his head forward just enough to fit through the doorway, and part of me remembered how Liam’s large frame barely made it through.
I narrowed my eyes, studying the man.
When he turned his head, and his ears appeared rounded, I relaxed, starting another rhythm on the drums. He turned toward me; the sound of the instrument having caught his attention.
I gave him a half smirk as I continued to play, my thoughts still buzzing with my new reality. This man returned my half smirk as he slowly stepped toward the counter, glancing up at the menu before studying me again.
I studied him back, completely unashamed and refusing to hide it.
He was attractive.
He had dark, thick hair, a sharp jawline coated with a light layer of stubble. He wore a long coat that covered most of his frame, but when he reached into his pocket to pull out bills for his drink, I could see how fit his form was. He wore sunglasses, as most visitors in this beach town did.
Once I finished my set on the drums, I stood, stretching my shoulders. The man watched me with polite curiosity while glancing around the warm, naturally lit space. There were onlya handful of other patrons in the shop, used to music randomly playing.
“Hi there,” I waved, waltzing toward the counter.
His dark eyebrows twitched, and I thought I noticed him swallow once before giving me what looked like a shy smile. Frankly, this man was too attractive to be shy about anything.
“Did you want whipped cream on this?” Emma asked the customer.
He didn’t respond to her question. I wasn’t positive he even heard her question. He just stared at me, even when I approached the counter and leaned a hip against it, crossing my arms. I raised my eyebrows as my smile widened.
“Sir?” Emma asked again after giving me a conspiratorial look.
His head jerked toward her then, and the angle revealed dark brown irises behind his sunglasses.
“Huh?”
“Do you want whipped cream on this?” Emma repeated.
“Yes, thank you,” he replied, stepping toward the other end of the counter where she was finishing his order.
The man was polite, too, which was another plus. A quick check on his hand indicated his ring finger was empty, so I squared my shoulders and walked toward him.
Being tall wasn’t a requirement for me to date someone. I learned how to date men who were shorter than me early on, considering my almost six feet of height. He had a couple of inches on me, though, which was nice.
I hadn’t been with a taller man in a long time, now that I thought about it.
“Have you been here before?” I asked the customer. I leaned forward and made my way around him, letting my eyes rake over him in a blatant pass. When I flirted, I was obvious. I didn’t want any miscommunication. Any second-guessing. I liked gettingstraight to the point, so that if the person I was flirting with wasn’t interested, they could tell me or hint at it as soon as possible.
“Hmm?” he asked as his head turned to follow my path. I bit my lip to hide my smile as I made my way to the entrance hidden in the counter.
“It’s just…” I rested my hand on his bicep, a light touch, to silently ask him to move out of my way. His hip was blocking the hinge that lifted the countertop. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”
