He holds his hand out to me. I glance at it, then look at him, one eyebrow raised.
“We need to be touching to funnel together. Otherwise, you’ll stay here while I get to travel to your store,” he explains, hand still outstretched.
I reach for it, instantly buzzing at the feeling of his skin against mine.
He pulls me forward and wraps his arm around my waist. “Hold tight,” he whispers before the wind starts to whip around us. The feeling is similar to traveling via portal, but the temperature doesn’t drop, and I can see.
The wind crescendos then slows as Pinecrest materializes around us. Asmo’s hand lingers on the small of my back as he steps away from me. I stifle a laugh as I watch him survey the downtown area, dark eyes assessing the storefronts and the citizens of Pinecrest as they walk down the tree-lined streets. He looks so out of place.
I chose to move to Pinebend because of its laid-back, easygoing atmosphere. Asmo’s posture is rigid, his jaw clenched, but his eyes…There’s joy in them, fascination, as he looks around.
“Welcome to the small downtown of Pinebend.” I can’t help the pride that creeps into my voice. This has been my home for the last seven years. I’m proud of the life I’ve built here. I’m a part of this community. My store is a staple of the downtown shops. When I was younger, I felt like I missed out on living near hybrids like me and embracing my culture, our human village woefully stuck in its human ways.
Moving to Pinecrest was my opportunity to build a life for myself. And I did. A small pang of loss hits me when I realize this is no longer my life, but I shake it off. I’ve spent enough time feeling sorry for myself.
Asmo’s eyes turn back to me, catching my own. I look away quickly, embarrassed that he caught me staring at him.
“It’s cute,” he says simply. I’m shocked to realize that it doesn’t feel like a dig or a sarcastic comment. It seems genuine.
I smile and point to the emerald storefront on the opposite side of the square. “That’s my bookstore.”
The front door opens as a female exits the store, a tote bag slung over her shoulder.
“Shall we?” he asks, gesturing forward.
I take the lead, Asmo falling in step beside me. “What is the City of Sand like?”
He scoffs. “Not like this. It’s dry. Hot. Barely any vegetation.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing it someday,” I say, glancing at him. He stares straight forward, his face back to his usual mask of indifference.
Bound’s front door pushes open. That familiar smell of leather-bound books wraps around me. I feel like it’s grown stronger since I’ve left. Or I’ve just been gone too long.
“Welcome!” Cally’s voice rings from in between the shelves. “Let me know if you need anything!”
Asmo walks to the bookshelves and tilts his head, surveying the titles and stepping to the right. He runs one finger down the spine of a red leather-bound book.
“What kinds of books do you like to read?” I ask.
He shuffles to the side again, head still tilted. “I prefer nonfiction, mostly history.”
“Makes sense,” I mutter.
He bends down, looking at the titles on the lower shelves. “And why is that?” he asks, glancing up at me, one eyebrow raised.
“You’re just so serious.”
He chuckles. “You don’t know me, princess.”
I mumble an agreement, then turn on my heels in search of Cally. She’s in the last row of shelves, recording the conditions of the books in a leather notebook.
Her head turns as the sounds of my feet echo on the worn hardwood floors. Her face lights up in a grin. “I didn’t know you were stopping by today!”
I return her smile, my heart warming in her presence. “I wanted to talk to you about something. Can we go back to the office?”
“Sure…” She sets her notepad down and places the book back on the shelf. We walk to the back in silence, Cally shooting me nervous looks the whole way. I make sure the office door clicks shut, and I turn the deadbolt.
“The last time you stopped by and pulled me back here, you told me you were the High Princess. What could this be about?” she asks, sinking into her usual chair in front of the desk.
