I tried to act nonchalant, reaching to thread my fingers through his silky mane again and then smiling to myself when he gave a purring rumble. “All of my diurnal friends are back in New Caelora,” I replied softly, thinking back to the loneliness I’d felt when I first moved here.And then, when I went back, none of them had time to see me, except the one who wanted to use me after flaking out as my guest.
“Do you miss them?” he asked sleepily.
I trailed a finger down one of the arms he had draped over me, marveling over the contrast of soft and hard, and how much strength and power it contained. “I did at first,” I admitted. “Sometimes I still do.” I did miss the occasional brunch or dinner date with my friends, but mostly, I missed having that network of people I knew had my back and that I could supporttoo. Alistair was all I had here, and that didn’t seem particularly healthy. Being reliant on him for every event or social need wouldn’t work, even if I wanted it to.
“You don’t have friends here?” he asked, making my stomach twist and my cheeks heat with embarrassment.
“Just you,” I admitted with a shrug. I was slowly beginning to feel comfortable here, and he’d been enough for me, at least back when I’d been determined to get back home as soon as possible. The guy at the smoothie shop recognized me when I came in and always had my order ready to go without needing to be told what it was. I’d found a quaint little park near the nursery to visit on my lunch breaks that was becoming a comforting little ritual. There was an older lady who’d started coming into the plant nursery regularly to buy new flower bulbs. She was easy to talk with and always happy to see me, and I’d thought maybe she could be a friend some day, in an alternate universe where I stuck around in this weird little town. Although, friendships take time and effort, and I wasn’t the most adept at that anyway. But I had found, since my trip home, that I wasn’t chafing at being here so much, and I knew my fluffy, antennaed companion had more than a small part to play in that.
Alistair’s arm tightened around me briefly in a tiny hug before turning his head to face me. I felt his hot breath against the top of my head. “You should meet my friends. They would like you.”
I swallowed and aimed for a teasing tone. “Are they all nocturnal like you? Because that wouldn’t help.”
He huffed at me. “Only one of them. They meet up pretty regularly at a pub that Miela’s dad manages in the Crown District. We could join them.”
I gave a small shrug, feeling awkward about inserting myself further into Alistair’s life, but knowing it would probably be good for me to meet some new people. “If you want to,” I finally said.
“I do,” he replied against the top of my head. I could hear the smile in his voice. “It’s a date, then.”
Chapter 8
Lilith
A sign hanging overthe entry named it The Silver Tongue, and fae lights flickered low in the windows as the sun began its slow descent early one evening.
We entered the cozy, modern-looking bar with dark, wood accents and industrial-style decor. Tables and seating were varied sizes for different species, a welcome sight that spoke of thoughtful management and a diverse neighborhood.
“Alistair! Come have a drink. We’re celebrating!” A booming voice came from a burly-looking orc behind the bar as he skillfully poured a round of drinks for the customers clustered around the bar top. He towered over everyone except Alistair, who nearly matched him in height, but his hands moved nimbly among the glasses and bottles. His dark green skin was mottled with white patches that had themselves been decorated with some kind of runic tattoos. His slick black hair was pulled back into a tight topknot, and his green eyes peered through dark-rimmed glasses. The overall effect was a cacophony of beautiful monochrome color and texture on a dashing-looking orc.
“We are? What are we celebrating?” Alistair answered curiously as he led me by the hand to the bar top.
“I bought The Silver Tongue!” the big orc crowed, beaming as he raised his massive arms to indicate the bar around him. “I finally get to change the name to The Silver Tusk! Come on, introduce me to your friend.” He leaned past the bar to give me a friendly wink, his silver capped tusks clearly visible over the curve of his smile. “What can I get for you, miss? First drink is on the house tonight!”
Congratulations from hollering patrons at the bar nearly drowned out the introductions, but I gathered that the bartender’s name was Hyrak and one of the smiling girls seated at the bar top was Solandis, his wife, who also happened to be Alistair’s oldest friend. She was sylvan—one of the forest fae—with long, white hair and pale, green skin, and the mother of Miela, the little toddler who’d caused such havoc at Alistair’s orchard. She told me that despite their squabbling, Alistair was Miela’s favorite babysitter, and she would live forever as a wild thing in his orchard if she were allowed. The sylvan’s eyes danced with curiosity and interest as they darted back and forth between me and Alistair while she introduced herself.
“She’ll have to stop eating all of my apples if she wants to take up permanent residence in my orchard,” he replied amiably.
Next to Solandis was a tall, human-looking, blond woman with braided hair and fair skin named Sidney. “Oh! The one who bought him his workout shirts from the Void!” I remembered aloud.
The blond woman’s smile was quick, and her eyes danced with mischief. “Aren’t those great?”
Alistair explained that Solandis had grown up down the street from him, and they’d all attended college together. He introduced me to a few other regulars and explained their connections, and I was pleased with how deftly he directed thegroup’s attention back to the normal flow of conversation so that I was no longer the focus. Solandis and Sidney kept me included, which I was grateful for, though they certainly took a somewhat sisterly interest in my relationship to Alistair. I was glad they didn’t ask about specifics because I didn’t know myself. He’d called tonight a date, but that was just a saying. It wasn’t really, of course.
I began to relax as my margarita made its way into my veins, and I listened to the comforting low buzz of Alistair’s voice as he spoke with his friends.
He turned down a third refill on his wine and requested a cider instead, which arrived frozen solid. “It’s tradition,” Hyrak had told him with a smirk, before finally giving in and getting him a new one when the mothman threatened to toss it at his head.
I didn’t know how much alcohol it would take to affect someone of Alistair’s stature, but I smiled to myself as I realized he was laughing more than usual. Was this Buzzed-Alistair? Or was it just because he was with his friends? It was a hilarious thought. And the way he interacted with his friends was amusing too. He was such a lovely mix of contradicting traits: shy, nervous, confident, flamboyant, smart, loyal, nurturing, persnickety, and gruff. He was always ready with a funny quip, and obviously a well-loved member of their circle of friends. Except maybe by Hyrak. It was hard to tell what the relationship was there. But even though he seemed to enjoy ruffling Alistair’s feathers, the big orc couldn’t seem to help but smile at some of my mothman’s snark.
My mothman?Where had that thought come from?
Although, in retrospect it shouldn’t have been such a surprise. I did sometimes wonder what that would look like, for him to be mine, but I’d never let myself go so far as to actually think of it as true. In that moment, daydreams quickly spun themselves one after another—me convincing Alistair to leave with me for NewCaelora, introducing him to my best girlfriends and including him in our monthly girls' night out, showing him around to all of my favorite little bistros. But then I tried to picture him in my tiny, contemporary condo. After experiencing the loveliness of his old penthouse, that he had put so much time and careful thought into… the web of daydreams started to unravel a little bit. Where would he grow his beloved apple trees in my concrete and steel jungle?
The vibrations of his rumbling laugh jostled me out of my thoughts, and I tried to anchor myself in it, focusing on enjoying him for who he was right here. His body emanated a comfortable heat next to me, like he was an immense fuzzy blanket right out of the dryer. I found myself leaning closer than necessary whenever he spoke to me, seeking both his warmth and his presence. His feathery fluff was soft, like I would imagine a chinchilla or maybe mink fur to be, and the adorable sparkles he left on my skin every time he brushed against me smelled like comfort and happiness and desire in a way that didn’t make sense to me. The shimmering patch of glitter that his gentle fingers left on my thigh every time he sought my attention in the overly loud bar felt like a brand. Like he’d marked me, and I enjoyed the idea a little too much.
I noticed that even though he kept an ear toward his friend’s conversations, he had a careful eye trained on me as well. He checked in to make sure I was comfortable, asking if I was hungry or needed anything, quietly explaining the jokes someone cracked if I was missing context to understand them, whispering private observations about the more boisterous patrons across the bar as they teased and antagonized one another. It was the most fun I’d had with anyone in a very long time, and I settled into a happy contentment with him as the evening wore on.
“So, where is Miela this evening?” Sidney asked the orc and his wife when the bar began to quiet down, as she watched him shake me a new margarita.
