Page 33 of Wynter

I snort. “Do you really have to ask?”

“Never mind.” Xavi’s cheeks flush an adorable red. For a second, I think he might shift again, but he takes a few deep breaths and seems to relax.

“So how does the whole ice block thing work?” I ask him.

“What do you mean?” Xavi pushes his glasses up his nose, and I get the sense it’s more of a nervous tic than anything else.

“Can you shift when you want? Or just when you’re…” I trail off.

“When I’m anxious?” Xavi chuckles. “Yeah, I can choose to shift, too. Most shifters from Shifter Bay can.”

“There are other ice blocks?” I ask in surprise. “I thought Shifter Bay shifters were one of a kind. Not that I know much about you guys. Just what I learned… in school.”

Well, actually, at the agency. But it just doesn’t seem like the right time to talk about my past.

“No, you’re right. Every Bayan is unique. And I’m definitely the only ice block,” Xavi says. “A woman down the street from where I grew up could shift into an ice cream cone. And my high school English teacher shifted into an ice sculpture. Of a penguin.”

“Really?” I snort. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make fun of her.”

“Him,” Xavi says. “And it’s fine. We all shift into something that stood out to us around puberty, but sometimes that thing can be really weird. Like the penguin. He saw it at a wedding, and it inspired some poem he was really proud of at the time. So when he shifted. Penguin ice statue.”

“So why an ice block?”

Xavi grins. “My granddad had a cabin by the bay. We used to drive out there on the weekends, and the winter before he died, we’d spend hours watching the sun glisten off the ice. There was just something so beautiful about it. Peaceful.

“After he died, I kept going out there. And one winter afternoon. I shifted. Right near the bay.”

“Do you miss home?”

“Sometimes. But I wouldn’t ever want to leave Silver Springs.”

I smile up at him. “Neither would I.”

Xavi and I finish fixing up Jewels Cafe. Technically, I do all the work, since the cleanup requires magic, but he entertains me with funny stories instead. Like the first time his brother shifted into a cake—and burst into tears because he realized he couldn’t eat it. And how he ice blocked at the beach and shifted back coated in sand.

I love hearing about his childhood with his two moms—who shift into a Coke bottle and an old paperback copy of Moby Dick. And then he floors me by promising to bring me home to meet them this Easter.

I know that we’re mates. I get it. But that’s more commitment than I’d expect after a year of dating, and we’ve barely known each other for hours.

“I’d love to meet your family,” I tell him anyway. And realize I really mean it. Because who cares if we’re going fast or slow if it feels just right?

“I can’t wait.” Xavi grins. “And maybe I could cook for you tonight? Unless you have plans? I totally understand if you have plans! I’m sure you’ve got tons of places to be. You—”

“I don’t,” I quickly interrupt. “I’d love to have dinner with you.”

“And I’d love to help you find something to wear,” Amber calls out, and I find her and all three of her guys standing by the stairs, grinning at us.

Suddenly, I find myself feeling as flustered as Xavi. We fumble with our phones as he adds me on Screech and sends me his address. Then he rushes off to get everything ready while Amber helps me get ready at her place, since mine is still infested with Mini.

I borrow black leggings and a nice top—it is way too cold for a dress—and walk the two blocks to Xavi’s.

He looks adorably handsome when he opens the door wearing a suit. Like, literally a full on suit, black tie and all. For a split second, I worry I’m underdressed, but then he pushes his glasses up his nose in a nervous tell that does an amazing job of putting me at ease.

“Hi.” I smile up at him and get the sudden urge to go up on tiptoe and give him a quick kiss.

Which is the exact moment he chooses to step aside and gesture for me to come in.

He takes my coat, shows me straight to the table, and pulls out a chair. Leaving me facing his bed. Because his apartment is a studio, like mine, so the living room, bedroom, and kitchen are all one room.