“No, I suppose I’m not.” He picks up a small tool, adding the finer details to his project. “Aurelia would have gone after Acheron with her bare hands if I hadn’t given her that accursed necklace. At least this way she gave us a chance at having lives outside of that bastard’s control; even if they’re more complicated.”
“She sounds like a force to be reckoned with. I’m not surprised that you love her, but I am sorry that you lost her.”
His eyes close with a sigh. “It wasn’t like that. Sure, at one time I wondered ‘what if?’, but we weren’t compatible in that fashion. Aurelia was, and always will be, my best friend and biggest regret, but only because I couldn’t protect someone that I cared about. She was a bright spot in a world ravaged by war, and that made it easy to confuse things at a time when people clung to what little they still had, but that doesn’t equate to any difference from what I feel for my legion. Someone you trust to have your back and care about, but not love the way you do a mate.”
If I wasn’t studying him so intently, I’d have missed the red creeping up his neck and staining his cheeks as he refuses to meet my eye. “My apologies. Pretty sure the first rule in the dating handbook is not to bring up other women, even if they aren’t exes.”
My heart goes out to him, twisted up in knots of guilt that’s messed with his head for the majority of his life. “Don’t sweat it. Origin stories fascinate me, and I’d actually like to hear more on that whole thing someday, if you’re up for it. Besides, it sounds like she was an integral part of what made you the man you are today. I might be biased, but I happen to like what I’ve seen so far. Even that snippet lets me know that the two of us would have gotten along famously, and I’m sad I’ll never have the opportunity to meet her. It would be a bit ridiculous to assume you’ve never had any close relationships up until now, or heck, dated, after all. Sobreathe,Stone. My self-esteem isn’t so fragile that it hinges on you never having a female friend in your life.”
Completely giving up on his project, he shuts off the wheel, facing me with a face shrouded in confusion. When I simply carry on with my terrible excuse of a coffee mug, he clears his throat and asks, “Since we’re on the subject of difficult topics, have you...”
“Ever been in love? Had a wild orgy on a mini-golf course? You’re going to have to be more specific, here.”
He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, immediately regretting it and grimacing. “Dealer’s choice.”
Humming under my breath as I weigh my words while he scavenges a paper towel to wipe off his neck, by the time he returns, I’m fairly confident in my response. “I’ve never been in love, but I’m embarrassingly starved for affection, and it’s led to blurred lines a few times. Easy to confuse love with lust or positive attention when you’ve been given so little in your life. Had a bit of a hoe phase where I slept with people simply to try and appease that lonely ache, but it led to more harm than good, and an epic downward spiral for a year.”
Tilting my head as I mull it over, I add, “Pretty sure I have a skewed idea of sex because of everything. I seek it out either to combat the loneliness, or out of spite to prove that I can. Probably not healthy, but it is what it is.”
For a guy that uses terms like ‘courting,’ I’m not sure if he wanted that much information, but if he’s going to ask vague questions, he’s going to get random answers.
“Well, you never have to worry about being lonely again between the three of us,” he says, then hastily amends, “Shit, that’s not what I meant, I -”
Having mercy on the guy, I flutter a hand to my chest, leaving a gross wet spot on my shirt. “Dr. Garrison, are you hitting on me?”
Releasing a frustrated breath, his heated gaze travels over me so slowly that I wonder if he’s trying to incinerate me to get out of this conversation. “That depends. Is it working?”
My stomach flips. “A little.”
He grins, and fuck, whoever created this man deserves a thank you card. “Then I’ll risk making an even bigger fool of myself by asking if you’d like some help with that?”
Gesturing to my pathetic clay blob, I snort. “I don’t think even Michelangelo could salvage this mess, but you’re welcome to try.”
Just as I’m about to scoop it up and toss it beside his, he wheels his stool over and slides in behind me. Thighs brushing against the outside of mine, chest pressed up against my back, he cages me in, and my mouth immediately goes bone dry.
“You’re trying too hard.” He hesitates for a few seconds, giving me time to pull away. When I don’t, he covers the backs of my hands with his palms. “The smallest thing can make a wild difference. You need to keep the pressure steady, coaxing it gradually.” Guiding my motions, he uses his thumbs to manipulate my own, and before long, we have an oversized coffee mug.
“You’re pretty good at this.”
He hums a contented sound, the vibration in his chest sending a shiver down my spine. Even after shutting off the wheel, he doesn’t move, in no hurry to pull away, and I... don’t particularly want him to, either. “I’ve had plenty of time to practice an abundance of hobbies. I don’t remember ceramics being this enjoyable though, so it must be the company.”
In the midst of the info dump earlier I didn’t catch it right away, and the heat flushing my limbs cools slightly. “Stone?” Bracing myself for an answer that I’m ninety-nine percent sure I don’t want, I ask, “Exactly how old are you?”
He stiffens, sighing as he pulls away. “Old enough that I prefer to forget.”
The lady comes around fawning over everyone’s finished creations, taking them off to be fired and telling us we can pick them up tomorrow. While I wait for my turn at the sink to get cleaned up, I replay his story in my mind, wincing at the answers dancing right in front of my face, daring me to deny them.
Stone wastherewhen it happened, thousands of years ago. Not a dragon shifter either, not really. Apparently none of us are. We’re the original wolves in sheep’s clothing, demons hiding in plain sight.
And I’m in way over my head.
