My alarm went off half an hour ago, but when I tried to force myself out of bed, I only became further entrenched in the twisted blankets. It’s hopeless, now. I’ll die here, eaten by Oscar when he doesn’t get his breakfast.
My phone pings with a message from Instaframe. I flail around a little and rotate enough to grab the charging cord to reel in my device. It reads my face and the message slides open.
Demi_Devil_Reads:You still down for that swap this month?
Shit.
I already did some of the up-front work when she told me her top five fics, so I have the manuscript printed and the vinyl cut, but everything else…
I should tell her no, that I’m overbooked and stressed and I can’t manage it, but I really don’t want to let her down. I’ve promised her a bind exchange for over a year, and I changed my schedule on a whim, so it’s not fair.
I need to work on it.
Plus, Aaron will be back in a few hours to get the rest of the stuff from the office.
Ugh.
I need to get up.
But I need help getting up.
I groan. “Bastian…”
“Yes, Jerry?” he replies, looming over me in an instant.
“I’m stuck.”
“How unfortunate,” he says with a teasing pout.
I scowl. “Help me.”
“Ask nicely.”
“Help me, please,” I say, anger clenching my teeth on the “please.”
He crosses his arms. “Nicer.”
“I will make Oscar claw off your scales!”
“Empty threats…” He tsks. “I know you can’t control the beast.”
“Bastian!” I roar. “Please. Help. Me.”
He smirks, then kneels beside the partially deflated mattress. “Grab my shoulders.”
I reach up and lock my hands behind his neck. His skin is warm and his scales are smooth. Not like a fish as I was guessing, but more like a snake. Perhaps they’re just colorful patterns and not really scales at all. I slide my fingernail along one at his wing joint and he shivers at the touch.
He growls and his breath fans over my face, making me realize just how close we are. He slides one hand behind my back and the other curls under my knees. He draws me against him without even a grunt and stands upright easily.
The heat radiating off him feels like the California sun. He holds me tightly against his chest, and though his grip is gentle, I still feel the pricks of his claws along my bare thigh. Those little pinpoints of pain are a swift reminder that I’m in the arms of a dragon. That I should be afraid.
But I’m not.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
“You’re welcome.”
He doesn’t move to set me down.
