“We could play I spy or charades, or if you don’t want to do that, I can put on a little skit. I don’t know any, but I’m sure I could make something up.”
Ro starts to stand, but I tug the hand still clasped in mine.
“No.” I huff out a tiny laugh, shocking both of us.
Ro freezes and stares at me. I can feel my face turning red, so I look away again.
“I mean,” I mumble into my shoulder. “It’s fine, you don’t have to do all that.”
He slowly lowers himself back to the ground, and I chance a look at him. His eyes are running over me, and it makes me wonder what he sees.
A broken girl? Someone lonely and sad? A lie?
All would be true.
“We could just talk?” Ro says, the words turning up at the end in question.
I nod, unable to speak around the lump in my throat.
Ro doesn’t seem upset by my lack of verbal response, instead offering a tender smile before his grin turns mischievous and he launches into a story. He starts with his early experiments making cocktails, before he took any mixology classes, and how he once made a drink so terrible it gave Finn a headache that lasted days. Apparently, it was Ro’s first experience with cleaning up vomit, too.
The dramatic full-body shudder he lets loose makes me smile again.
Ro shares stories about customers at the various bars he’s worked at. Stories of drunken shifters, and silly humans, and tales of the most ridiculous drinks he’s ever been asked to make. He requires little to no input from me, keeping up a constant flow of words that my brain soaks up like a sponge.
It’s strange, the way his chatter doesn’t bother me. His voice soothes an anxious part of my mind that is used to going, going, going. I place my free hand on the cloth bag containing the stardust, and the hum of its magic thrums against my palm. It warms me from the inside, bringing another layer of peace that I don’t trust. The dichotomy sets me on edge; tranquility and distrust, serenity and apprehension.
We end up sitting together, holding hands, for far longer than I would have guessed possible for two people who aren’t actually doing much of anything. Ro’s thumb sweeps against the back of my hand every so often, sending tingles up my arm.
I ignore it, and he smiles.
He seems pleased to finally be cracking me open, somehow recognizing that even though I’m not sharing much verbally, this is still me letting him in. I don’t know what to make of it all—of him, my reactions, my jumbled feelings and calmed thoughts.
“I should go,” I say, suddenly needing out.
I drop his hand and pull away. I can’t take anymore of whatever this is. It doesn’t feel safe, though logic tells me it is. “It’s getting late. So. I better get home.”
Ro hops up, then holds out both hands. I hesitate before settling mine into his, and he practically throws me onto my feet in his enthusiasm to help me stand.
“Whoops. Sorry, Starfire,” he says with a grin. “Got a little carried away.”
Ro laughs like he told the world’s funniest joke, but I don’t crack a smile. My heart stumbles at the nickname. I’ve never had a nickname before, apart from Lor, which I always ask people to call me because I don’t like Alorra.
I can’t figure out how I feel about it. I’m staring, I know I’m staring, but my brain has reached its limit for the day.
I spin on my heel and re-strap my backpack around me.
“So…” Ro calls behind me. “Same time tomorrow?”
There’s a grin in his voice, and I peek over my shoulder, unable to resist seeing it one last time. I don’t contradict him, even though I should. There’s a reason I’m not interested in a relationship, and especially not with someone who seems as kind and genuine as Ro.
My lifestyle, the life of crime and people I’m involved with… They’d chew him up and spit him out before he even knew what happened. Not to mention my curse.
No, I won’t subject an innocent—demon or not—to a doomed future with me.
His tongue lapsat my nipple, teasing until it’s a taut peak, and I moan through closed lips. Ro grins up at me and I bury my fist in his silky brown hair, pulling and tugging, trying to get him to go where I want. He nips at the curve of my breast before latching his lips around my nipple with a suck strong enough to arch my back. I groan, palming my other breast, and the vibration of his answering rumble sends heat flooding to my core.
Ro’s form blurs in and out as he sucks and nips and licks his way down my body. I’ve been thinking about this for so long, I’m ready to come out of my skin with need. Ro’s hands are nearly scorching as he spreads my thighs and settles his shoulders between them. He kisses up one thigh and I lose track of time, my mind fuzzy as it skips from one moment to the next, then he’s sucking a hickey on the inside of my opposite thigh.
