“How are you going to eatsevensandwiches?” I turn to look at him. He is sitting backward in his chair, arms crossed atop the backrest, watching me.
Like some kind of creep.
He yawns and lifts a shoulder. “I’ll believe in myself.”
Oh, well excuse me, then. Faith gets everything done. “They can stagger your order. Get over here.”
His electric blue eyes peer through me, long lashes lowering to kiss his cheeks as he sighs. “If you insist…” He drags himself out of the chair. “If you’re really so desperate to eat lunch with me…” He stalks around to the chair across from me. “If you like methatmuch…” He sits, leaning back, one long leg stretched beneath the table, threateningly close to mine. Once settled, he lifts his brows and looks at me, all surprise. “Oh, wow. Morana? I hardly saw you there. What a coincidence we’d both run into each other here. No one can accuse this of being an appointment now. Just a wee coinky-dink.”
If I don’tcoinky-dinkthis man in the skull before I’ve finished my first dessert, that will be a miracle.
It’s this kind of humor and quick wit that has millions on YouTube and Leopard and Twitch falling over themselves for this man’s alter egoFrostPlays. He’s so constantlydry. Andcool. Andattractive. And when he likes you? When he approves of you?
Gracious.
That feels like an award.
He’s gotbroodingandendearingly detacheddown to a science. But you know the part that makes it meaneverything?
It’s not an act.
Kyran Bachelor is naturally conscientious and kind and funny. He’s not putting on a show for the public on his channels, so the public easily resonates with who he is, his authentic character. He’sreal, and interesting, andsafe.
In contrast, I’m not much of anything.
I clean for a living. That’s it. I’m background noise at best. My big sister scooped up all the talent cells in the womb, leaving the dregs of a decent work ethic for me, and yet I still have to con my brain into abiding by that work ethic by providing it with reward-based systems and real-life games.
I’m an ambitionless ball of executive dysfunction while Kyran rules the internet with his organic charisma.
There is no reason for him to shower me with near-constant mention of romantic suggestions. There is no reason for him to plan to show up at the place I’m eating lunch so we can eat together. There is no reason for him to bother spending any time with me at all.
…and I’m terrified for when the day comes that he realizes that.
Chapter 2
?
Teasing is my love language.
Kyran
In stories, there’s thisthingthat commonly happens with the grumpy/sunshine trope.
Allow me to explain.
See, the guy, who is usually the grump, acts all coarse and sometimes sarcastic and mostly irritated with the sunshine. But then the POV flips, and the reader finds out that he’s smitten, besotted, helpless—annnndunfortunately emotionally unavailable because his parents beat him or something…haha…crazy like that…
Now, am I a sunshine character?
Absolutely not.
Make no mistake, we are black cat versus black cat. Ifsmileisn’t on page, I am not performing the action. But.
Still.
I am not oblivious.
Even if I only get, on average, a broken four hours of sleep a night and into the afternoon, I am more than aware of my surroundings and know how to read other “characters,” especially ones with my similar disposition.
