Page 16 of The Nixie and the Frost Elf

"I've never had it," I admit. "Nixies tend to stick to freshwater."

"Ah, that makes sense."

I pick up my mug and take a sip, allowing the taste of salty seaweed to wash over my tongue. The heat is a contrast to how cold Edur's lips had been against mine, sending my thoughts back to our kisses. I liked the way it felt to kiss him, the sensations were pleasant, and maybe that's what sex will be too.

"It's delicious," I say about the tea, my gaze fixed on my mug so that I don't reveal any of my thoughts to my friend. I appreciate her insight, but I'm not sure it's doing anything other than making my mind race more.

Marnie gives me a shrewd look. "So what happened when Edur caught you playing the violin?"

"He didn't catch me. I was in one of the music rooms, so it wasn't a secret or anything."

"That's not answering the question," she points out.

I let out a sigh. "We talked about our date a bit, and then we kissed."

"Well, you could have started with that revelation," she jokes. "How was it?"

"Amazing." I touch my lips without meaning to. "Kissing has always been fun, but this was even better than that."

"Seems like a good start," she responds. "So maybe the rest of it will follow."

"Maybe." But I suppose the only way I'm going to find out how I feel about those parts of the relationship is to talk to Edur and try it. Even the idea of that is a little terrifying, but so is the prospect of losing him from my life.

So I'm just going to have to trust that we'll be able to work this out, even if that's terrifying.

Chapter 8

Lexi

The dining hall is full of noise as I make my way into it to grab some lunch. I look over to the table where Marnie normally sits, but my friend is nowhere to be seen. I frown and try to think back over what lectures she has today, and if one of them has run over. Or maybe she's just gotten a better option.

Someone clears their throat, and I turn to find Edur. "Hey," he says.

"Hi."

"You look as if you're lost."

"I thought my friend would be here, but she's not," I say.

"Mine isn't either." He doesn't even look around, so I'm not sure how true that is. "I'm free to keep you company. Unless you don't want to spend time with me before our date."

I laugh. "Why wouldn't I want that? Come on, we should grab a seat before all the good stuff is gone." I reach out and take his hand in mine, enjoying the slight tingle that comes from touching his cold blue skin.

A smile tugs at his lips, making the frost around his eyes lift and sparkle in the lights. I like the reaction, and I want to make it happen more. Seeing him like this makes me wonder why I ran away when I first felt the response to the mate bond, because this isn't as scary as I thought it would be. Then again, I'm three years older, and three years more aware of my sexuality. It doesn't make it easier to know that I've hurt him though, and I wish I hadn't.

He leads me over to one of the tables that's laden with all kinds of sandwiches before letting go of my hand. Disappointment floods through me in response to losing his touch, but it vanishes just as quickly when I sit down and realise how close together we are.

"What do you want?" he asks, looking over the array of food in the middle of the table. I'm not even sure how the kitchens manage to make so much, there has to be some magic involved. "Oh, there's some tuna mayo, but if I remember right, you don't like it."

"No. It's either too wet or too dry, there's no middle ground," I respond. "Are there any of those chicken and anchovy wraps they had the other week? They were tasty."

He looks over the table, before spotting what he's looking for and grabbing a plate before holding it out to me.

"Thank you." I put one on my plate and look over the rest of the selection, adding a prawn sandwich and one with smoked mackerel in it to my plate. "Sorry for all the fish," I say, thinking back to Marnie's comments about pickled herring.

"You don't need to be sorry," he says with a reassuring smile. "You like what you like."

I know the statement is meant to be about fish, and is innocent as a result, but I can't help thinking that it applies to other things too. I glance down at my plate, not really sure what to say in response, especially not when he has no idea about my feelings.