“I’ve known you for 8 months and this is the first time I’ve heard you laugh like that. Like a full belly laugh. Usually, you kind of quietly chuckle like you’re afraid to really let go.”
Mesmer’s cheeks were turning pink. I pointed at them and whisper shouted, “Oh my gosh! You’re blushing!”
Mesmer scowled at me and glanced around us, shushing me with his hands. Shoppers had stopped to stare at us, and I made a sorry face and scooted closer to Mes so I could whisper quieter. “I thought I was imagining things that day on the island. You blushed then too!” I accused. I didn'tknow gargoyles could blush!
His blush deepened, and, prancing pixies, all I could think was that it was possibly the most adorable thing ever. I wisely kept that to myself because Mes was brawny enough to snap me in half and use me as a toothpick.
“Mes, you know you’re handsome, right? And you have that whole military type thing going for you? Women eat that up.”
If anything, his blush burned brighter, and I gaped at him in a stupor. “Has no one told you this before? But, I, but, how?” I stuttered. It just seemed so wrong! Seriously! Mesmer was hot with two t’s! He was a little on the quiet side, but some girls loved that! And, he had an amazing job—that I knew, because I kept the books—payedverywell.
Mes shook his head. “I haven’t…dated anyone. I haven’t gone on a single date.”
I nearly gasped again in surprise. I moved so close to him that I was practically Scotchguard on his coat. “Have you kissed anyone?” I whispered.
Still blushing, but looking as if he would rather be anywhere but answering my very nosy questions, he shook his head.
“Mesmer, we havegotto get you kissed!”
He shook his head. “No.”
“No? No? But kissing is so fun! Jump on the kissing bandwagon! The smooching train! The pucker pony!”
He couldn’t help but laugh again at my ridiculousness, and I shimmied in place in celebration for making him laugh deeply again. I was on a roll!
“Who’s joining the smooching train?”
I squealed, but Mesmer merely blinked at me with an eyebrow raised. “You could have warned me he was coming up behind me.”
His smile was a secret smile, and I knew it was because letting the paranormals in my life scare the crud out of me amused him.
“You’re getting coal in your stocking.”
He winked.
I turned to Rhys. “You’re intruding on my Christmas shopping.”
He pretended that my words wounded him by lurching around, clutching his chest, and I smacked his arm. “People are staring, weirdo.”
He laughed and kissed me before I could blink.
I spluttered and used Mes’ jacket to get the Rhys cooties off. “Stop doing that!” I squealed. “I have Rhysphobia now because you keep kissing me.” Rhys pouted, and I shook my finger. “Noppity nope! You don’t get to pout. My lips are off limits.”
He shrugged, and I had pity on him. Dumb star elf couldn’t help it. Honestly, I’d never known a more cuddly race. It was hilarious because they were cuddly, but strangely antisocial at the same time. They were some of the most powerful supernaturals in the world, and others both feared and revered them for it.
It had obviously gone to their heads, but...I felt a little bad for them. And then I’d told Rhys it was his job to go out and make lots of babies to repopulate his species. He’d laughed at me the whole week. He would stop for a half-day or so, then look at me again remembering my words and bust up laughing again.
Literally.
The whole week.
To get back at him, like any good little sister/best friend would do, I’d unfriended him on Paramate, the social online hang-out for supernaturals. And then felt terrible a week later when he kept texting me crying emojis and sad GIFs and friended him again.
Ugh. Star elves.
I threaded my other arm through Rhys’ elbow, and we started walking again. “So,” I said, looking at him, “I have several stops to make before we can head to the villa. Care to make a wager?”
Interest sparked his nebula eyes. “What kind of wager?”
