Heat rises to my cheeks. He doesn’t mean me. He can’t mean me. I don’t even know his name. My hands, usually steady as I wrap package after package, fumble with the ribbon. The box slides a little too far, and I have to catch it before it hits the floor.
“Wow, congrats to both of you.” It takes all my concentration to keep my voice steady as my fingers resume their work on autopilot.
“She doesn’t know yet.” He winks.
He’s just flirting. He probably has the same thing going with the coffee shop barista and the fruit girl at the bodega. He can’t mean me.
Someone clears their throat, reminding me I have a line of people waiting behind him. I force myself to glance up, offering a quick smile to the next customer. “I’ll be right with you.”
I finish the dragon guy’s gift with more care than I probably should, smoothing the edges and trimming the ends of the ribbons into perfect points.
“Happy Holidays,” I say automatically, sliding the box across the counter toward him.
He doesn’t take it right away. Instead, he hovers. “When is your shift over?”
My brain screams not to tell him—it isn’t exactly wise to go around giving strangers my schedule. But I also want more time with him. Time where I can be myself and not just a Hoardstrom’s employee with a pre-written script.
“Nine,” I answer before I second-guess myself. It’s a long shift, and he might be gone by then anyway.
His smile deepens. “Good to know.” He picks up his gorgeously wrapped gift, giving me one last lingering glance before he walks away.
For the rest of my shift, I replay the conversation over and over in my mind, wondering if I imagined the spark in his eyes or the subtle, inviting tone in his voice. I tell myself not to be ridiculous. He’s not going to be there tonight. People don’t wait hours for someone they barely know.
But when I finally clock out, all wrapped up in my coat and scarf, I find him just outside the employee exit, leaning casually against the wall, steam rising from his nostrils into the frozen air.
A grin lights up his face when he sees me. “How was your day?”
“Good,” I say, meaning it. “Even better now that you’re here.”
Chapter 6
Myrran
Suddenly, I have nerves.
She smiles, warm and hesitant. “You waited all evening for me?”
“I left and came back,” I explain, holding out the insulated bag I brought with me. “Thought you might be hungry after a long day at work.”
Her brows raise skeptically as we walk toward the bus stop bench. “You brought food?”
“Maybe a little too much,” I admit, pulling out two neatly packed containers. I would have brought more, but it didn’t fit in the bag. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I made a couple options.”
“You made these yourself?” Her eyes widen as she peeks inside one container, revealing perfectly grilled vegetables and spicy-sweet ribs. The steam from the still-hot meal curls into the frigid air. “This smells incredible.”
“I did,” I say, fighting the urge to tell her everything right now. I try and narrow it down fromI’ll happily cook for you every day for the rest of your lifeto something more digestible. “Cooking is kind of my thing. It started because—well, in human terms, dragons allergic to gluten, and a lot of prepared food is tricky to navigate. Cooking for myself led to cooking for others. I like seeing people enjoy what I’ve made.”
I especially like seeing mymateenjoy it.
She smiles at me as she brushes new snowfall off the bench with her free hand. “Well, thank you! Hot food sounds great right now.”
I offer her the second container, which holds fragrant saffron rice and skewered shrimp. “This one has the hot sauce on the side, in case you’re not into spicy food.”
“Are you kidding? It all looks so good.” She settles onto the bench, choosing the container with the seafood. Her face softens as she takes her first bite. “Okay, this is...wow. You should do this for a living.”
“I do, actually.” I say, sitting beside her. “I’m a flame-griller at a restaurant in the South Scales neighborhood. I especially lovecooking for friends and family, though. There’s a lot of love and memories tied up in what we eat. I like being part of that, you know?”
“I do.” She reaches out to squeeze my hand, and for a moment, I forget the biting cold around us. “I miss being around my family. They’re always cooking something, especially this time of year.”
