I pull into the parking lot of the bookstore, feeling better. I’ve handled assholes before, and this is no different. No means no, and if they don’t accept that, it’s one more name scratched off my list.
I should make a list.
I’ll just light them on fire if they don’t listen. Why would I want to mate someone that doesn’t listen to me? I have the best, built in self-defense system evolution can buy... as long as weapons aren’t involved.
Nope, not going down the dark rabbit hole. Not today.
I head into the bookstore feeling better and more confident. I was caught off guard, but I just need to think of this as a race. Conquer the obstacles and emerge victorious. I’ve got this.
I grab a basket, starting through the aisles and seeing what catches my eye. They say don’t judge a book by its cover, but let’s be honest with ourselves; everyone’s a sucker for some pretties. I blame it on the dragon blood, wanting to hoard all of the pretty things. Some like jewelry or gold, but I have three favorites; weapons, book covers, and my secret stash. I hoard them all shamelessly.
“Looking for anything in particular?” Nick asks, fiddling with his shirt sleeve.
Another school friend, and I’ll admit, I don’t hate being around him. He gets my love of reading, has the respectable scholarly look going for him, and wouldn’t be the worst choice in the world.
“Just adding to the collection. I’m thinking fantasy today.”
He smiles warmly. “Then follow me, we just got a new shipment that I think would be right up your alley.”
He leads me to a new display he was likely in the middle of stocking before I showed up. I run my fingers over the glossy hard covers, hoping I’m not about to drool on them. When I look up, he’s already laughing, grabbing one of each and passing them to me to stack in the basket.
“Here, I’ll carry that,” he offers. I pass it over and we fall into comfortable conversation as we stroll through the aisles.
“You seem different today,” Nick says out of the blue and I stuff back down that feeling of unease.
“Still just little ‘ol me.”
He’s already shaking his head, grabbing my arm and his expression is hard. We’ve been friends for a long time, so I give him point two seconds before I burn the shit out of his hand, not wanting my precious books caught in the crossfire.
“Fuck, Ez, you need to go home,” he says suddenly and I look pointedly at his hand on my arm, my eyes hard.
“Why?”
He releases me with an apology. “You’re starting to give off some killer pheromones, if I had to hazard a guess. I’ve been hard as a rock the entire time we’ve been talking, and I usually can at least wait until you leave before wanting to jack off.”
I step back with mixed feelings of flattered, insulted, and creeped out at the fact he’s not even blushing about admitting that. “Am I mad at you right now?” I ask honestly. “Because seriously, I’m a little confused here.”
He ushers me towards the register and starts scanning everything hastily while flicking glances over my shoulder. I turn, looking at a dozen sets of eyes near the ends of the stacks pretending to read and constantly flicking back to me.
“Why does this feel like a zombie movie right now?” I whisper to Nick.
He doesn’t smile, just takes my money and passes me my bag. When his hand brushes against mine he stifles a groan. “Please, Ez, for the love of the Fates go home,” he begs.
And a second later, he’s got a fist in his cheek, some guy shouting at him for touching me and with all of the testosterone suddenly flooding the air, I’m shocked they can still pick up on anything I may or may not be giving off. I start heading towards the door, but it’s slow going as several fist fights are breaking out all over and people are crashing into the shelves.
“If you’re going to be assholes, at least take it outside! Don’t destroy the books!” I exclaim in frustration, gesturing in annoyance.
Someone breaks away from their fight to offer to carry my bag to my car which sets off another chain reaction. Pissed off, I punch one guy in the throat and another gets a kick to the back of the knee. The bell jingles above the door the same time I catch another man in the windpipe, working my way through the chaos and towards the exit.
I’m suddenly lifted and my skin instantly heats. The man holds on regardless, not even faltering in his grip. From the new angle, I’m able to get a good kick to the side of one guy’s head and he passes out cold. I turn as I start to drive my elbow back, making sure I’ll hit the nose I’m aiming for, but I stop just shy of bashing it into his face.
“Soren?”
The massive man in question starts for the exit, his grey eyes positively murderous. He brings me flush against his body, using one arm around my waist to hold me and the other to open the door like it’s nothing. He sets me down outside and gestures to the door handles.
“You mind?” he asks, his voice low and rumbling.
Confused as all get out, I use the heat of my hands to melt the top parts of the twin, vertical handles. Crossing them in an x, I fuse them back to the opposite door so that they can’t be opened without busting them down.
