My feral form isn’t sleeping anymore. He’s wide-awake and ready to defend her. “Who was it? Did they catch him?”
She shakes her head. “He was never caught. I got a doorbell camera until I graduated, and then I changed my name and moved. So far, it’s worked. I haven’t heard from him since then.”
“That’s good,” I grit out, making a mental note to get my hands on any evidence I can so I can hunt him down and makethem pay for terrifying her. “I’m glad you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”
Especially because if he tries anything,I’mgoing to be there.
Cari’s smile turns sad. “I’m not as scared as I used to be, but I can’t say I’m ever fully relaxed. I always feel like someone’s watching me. Following me. I’m probably just being paranoid, though. I’ve had those feelings forever, even back when you and I were friends.”
Back whenIwas the one following her, watching her while she slept. She couldfeelme there.
At first, I’m warmed by the thought that she was thinking of me while I was thinking of her, but then a chill settles over me. If she learns I’ve been stalking her all these years, she’s going to think Iwasthisguy.
Dammit. I can’t tell her that we’re mates tonight because she knows about the biological imperatives for dragons. The focus on our mates. The need to track and watch. I thought she could handle anything, but this is the one thing that will freak her out.
I’m barely back in her life. The news that I have an ongoing obsession with the smell of cum in her hair and have been recording every detail about her since the day we met is not going to go over well. But I’m not going to lie to her, either.
“You’re not being paranoid. You’re being smart,” I assure her. “If you think someone’s watching you, trust your intuition.”
Chapter 11
Cari
Zed’s advice is honestly the nicest compliment anyone’s ever paid me. I can’t remember anyone else ever hearing about my fears and turning that around to sayyeah, trust your gut. If you don’t feel safe, you’re not safe.
Usually they’d tell me I worried too much or that I should practice mindful breathing. Like the power of my mind was going to keep this stalker creep from sending me maps of remote wilderness areas and lists of things he was going to do to me there.
I want to thank him, but that’s just weird, so I nod. “I’ll do that.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see our host making a beeline for our table with a new set of platters. These contain a row of fried chicken wings covered in glossy, sticky sauce. Any other dish, and I might not be able to complete the third challenge. But hot wings? I can always eat another one.
“Ooh, yummy!” I clap excitedly when he sets the plates down in front of us, along with two glasses of milk and two pairs of latex gloves. Zed’s eyes glow at me across the table while the host explains the game.
“This challenge is calledBeat That Heat! Start with the wing on the left, then work your way down the row, head-to-head. Each wing gets spicier until you get to our famous Volcanic Eruption Wing. Whoever makes it the furthest along the row before ‘chickening’ out is the champ!”
As soon as he says go, Zed and I are in it to win it, trash talking, laughing, bragging, and enjoying our way through the whole series of wings.
“You a fan of spicy food, I guess?” he asks when we reach the end of the row, nodding to the so-called Volcanic Eruption Wings we’re both holding.
“My favorite. It has been ever since those hive feasts woke up my tastebuds,” I admit. “Never met a spicy bite since that I didn’t like.”
His crooked smile shows his adorable snaggletooth. “I should have known. You’re perfect in every way.”
I’m far from perfect, but I fall for the sweet talk hook, line, and sinker. I feel my cheeks burning even more than they already are from the wing sauce. I want to finish this meal and take him home and make up for years apart.
He didn’t ghost me like the other dragons I dated. He wanted me the whole time. He reached out to me and then respected my space when I didn’t answer. If you ask me, he’s pretty perfect, too.
“You want to go first?” I wave my wing around and slurp a big pre-emptive drink of milk. “Just warning you so you don’t get your hopes up: I’m going to finish it, no problem.”
“Let’s go at the same time.” He holds up his wing. “To happy endings.”
I tap mine against it, holding eye contact. “Toourhappy ending.”
The Volcanic Eruption wing is a challenge even for me. It’s delicious, though, sweet and vinegary behind the blast of heat from the ghost-pepper base. Zed and I finish our wings at the same time and grin giddily at each other over the pile of bones between us.
“The buzzer,” the host reminds us.
“You go,” I say, knowing he purposely matched my pace and could’ve finished even faster.
