“Hm… Just like the eels represent my triumphs, I think it should be something— How about beer pong? A cup and ball.” He gives me a sly smile that makes me worry about what will come out of his mouth next. Tristan slides his fingers to my jaw, delightfully gentle. “So, if we both got tattoos, would you get the cup or the ball?”
A delicious sensation awakens at the pit of my stomach, and I spread my feet a little, because soon enough I might need to hide my arousal with the cloak. I know exactly what he's asking, and while it’s so forward, I want him to know. “I’m definitely the cup…”
There’s a predatory glint in his eyes that makes my heart skip a beat when he squeezes my hand. “Let’s go get our ink then.”
Chapter 7
Nate
We didn’t get the tattoos, because the artist decided we were too drunk, which might be for the best, because as far as ink goes, a solo cup really isn’t representative of who I am as a person… even if it does work perfectly with the erotic joke I now share with Tristan. It’s past three in the morning when we arrive in front of my apartment building, and the cool air has sobered me up enough to once again let doubts flourish.
What am I doing? I can’t commit to traveling to another world because of a story and some tricks, right? I’m a firm believer in science, and an altogether-upstanding citizen. So how come I helped wreck Richie’s car and suggested to this stranger that we might make love tonight? Even if my heart is in the la-la-land of romantasy, I can’t hope to fall in love within a night. And why would I think about love when I barely know Tristan? He even explicitly told me to keep ourthinga secret from Gloombane. If that’s not a red flag about his character, I don’t know what is.
Then again, my grandma met my grandad at a dance when he was visiting from Hawaii. He uprooted his life and moved to marry her three weeks later. Can love like that not exist now?
The massive horse snorts when Tristan pulls on its reins, directing it down the alley meant for pedestrians. He’s holding me close by the waist, pretty much hugging me, and I’m still wearing his cloak. We’ve not straight up said it, but it’s pretty obvious he expects to be invited to my place. Technically, though, he’s ‘taking me home’.
“The moon in the Nightmare Realm is so much bigger and brighter. Do you remember?” He points at the sky where the moon is only a small white ball surrounded by a halo. I’ve never seen a sky like the one I witnessed last night—colorful and filled with pinpricks of light. The sky above appears muddy in comparison, just like all the guys I’ve dated so far seem when compared to Tristan.
“Is every night in your world so beautiful?” I ask, gently stroking the gloved fingers on my stomach.
Tristan laughs and rests his chin on my shoulder. “Honestly? No, but just wait until you experience a blood moon. Everything gets soaked in a red glow. Let me help you envision it.” Before I realize what he’s doing, Tristan pulls a thick strand of his long hair over my eyes like a blindfold. It’s flattened enough for me to kind of see through the red hair that smells of smoky herbs and sea salt, and I let my imagination run wild.
A world of magical ruins and strange beasts, illuminated by a red orb high above.
“I think I’m gonna love it there,” I rasp despite the uncertainty still looming in the pit of my stomach.
When the horse stops in front of the entrance I know that time for thinking’s over, and I look over my shoulder, meeting Tristan’s eerily luminescent eyes. “May I sleep on it?”
He smirks. “May I come with you?”
He has the kind of unshaken confidence that makes my heart stop. It’s so reassuring in a world of hot-and-cold guys who don’t know what they want and then ghost me anyway. And still, inviting him in feels so verynaughty.
Tristan gets off the horse to help me down, like the gentleman he is.
“I… don’t usually do this…” I mutter, embarrassed that I’m explaining myself in the first place. I slide off the saddle and right into his arms.
“Oh, I do this all the time.” Tristan presses a kiss to my lips. I’ve waited for that since last night, and it’s even sweeter than it was in my dream.
Which wasn’t a dream?
Am I dreamingnow?
I might just be, because his lips are making my knees weaken until he needs to hold me up.
My head’s spinning. Little jolts of electricity travel over my skin. And I don’t want him to stop. “Please, come inside…”
“That’s a request I can’t wait to fulfill,” Tristan whispers against my lips, his handsome face so close to mine, so warm and smooth. I’m tall, but he’s… really big, and I can’t help but be attracted to it. I’ve always had a soft spot for the shoulder pads on football uniforms, and those spiky pauldrons he’s wearing have the same effect on me.
So many of the things on my mind are too embarrassing to voice, but I still want to, in case this is a hyper realistic fever dream, and he’ll soon be gone forever. “Show me how you’d do it, in your world. How would you impress me? If I wasn’t Gloombane’s promised, how would you court me?” I tease, struggling to keep my breathing even as he caresses my cheek with the backs of his fingers.
“I’d start off like this…” Tristan leans down and picks me up so fast I grab his neck like it’s my second nature. “Then show offmy wings…” It’s nighttime, but the ambient light from various streetlamps and Halloween decorations is still enough to let me see the giant, shadowy wings that appear behind him. They’re the leathery, bat-like kind, yet somehow still see-thru. “Because you have to admit they’re pretty impressive, right?”
I shiver, overwhelmed by the impossibility of what I’m seeing, but when I reach out toward them, my hand doesn’t go through a projection. The wings are sturdy yet delicate like the finest silk. “Careful, I might never be impressed by anyone else again,” I say, and while I try to make it sound like a joke, I am serious. Who could possibly compete with… this?
“I sure hope so.” He makes the wings lean into my touch, and then he lets them slide around us, cocooning me against his chest. “I rather like having you all to myself.”
I can barely breathe as emotion crashes over me like an avalanche, because what the heck am I doing? I don’t know this man, and he admitted to doing this all the time, yet here I am, with a swarm of butterflies cozying up in my belly.
