Not seeing how I can argue with that line of thinking, I point my chin toward Bodin. “Why are you here? I thought you hardly ever leave Tilly’s side.”
“I’d also like to know,” Arran says. “You hadn’t said a word until Beck arrived, simply sagged onto the step beside me in grumpy silence.”
Bodin runs his fingers through his beard and mumbles, “Uhm… Tilly said she needed some space, so I came to hang out with Arran until she’s asleep.”
“What did you do?” Arran asks, sounding like he’s ready to go to war on Tilly’s behalf. Tilly has done so much for Starry Hill, it’s no wonder he’s feeling protective of his closest neighbor.
“She says I’m fussing too much.” Bodin hardly moves his lips while speaking, but we can still make out the words.
“Are you?” I ask, fairly certain Tilly wouldn’t kick him out for no reason.
“Maybe,” Bodin admits with a heavy sigh.
When he doesn’t elaborate, Arran asks, “Why?”
Bodin squares his shoulders and looks us in the eye. “Just trying to keep her safe. As always.”
Sensing there’s more to it, I ask, “Because of the baby?”
Arran swings his head toward Bodin. “The what?”
Bodin’s eyes widen to saucers. “How did you know?”
I tap my nose. “You smell different. You always smell a little like Tilly, but her scent has shifted lately. It’s sweeter.” All pregnant creatures have a distinctly different scent, as if signaling to everyone that there is a baby within their womb. I’m sure I’m not the only one who has noticed this.
“You stopped drinking at game night,” Arran remarks, slapping Bodin on the shoulder. “Congratulations. It’s one of the signs of a good father, how you put the mother of your unborn child first with small actions.”
Bodin rubs two hands down his face before clutching the back of his neck with both. “Fuck. I didn’t realize it was that obvious. Tilly didn’t want to tell anyone yet, but if you guys know, then I guess most of the island knows.”
I nod and finally take a seat on Bodin’s other side. “I’m certain they do.”
For the first time, a smile pulls at the corner of Arran’s mouth. “Like when we all pretended we didn’t know you two were dating and fucking all over the island?”
Bodin huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, let’s go back to pretending you don’t know anything. At least until I’ve come up with a tactful way to convince Tilly to tell everyone soon.”
Just when I thought our conversation was done and we can quietly enjoy the sound of waves crashing against the rock below, Arran asks me, “How’s your dragon?”
“What do you mean?” Even though he’s asleep, I can feel my dragon narrowing his eyes at me.
Arran rolls the die between his fingers, focusing on the motion as he speaks instead of the shiver of scales sweeping down my spine and along my arms. “I’ve noticed your dragon has made himself more apparent as of late. Especially when you mention Eleanor. I know you’re not always in agreement with him, so I’m curious as to what your relationship is like these days.”
I sigh and hold out my arm, watching my scales shimmer in the full moon’s silvery light. “It’s been getting harder to suppress him. He’s been awake more often, especially when she’s around, and wants to have his feelings heard too. Maybe I should look into getting a glamour ring so the scales won’t be that noticeable?”
“No,” Arran says, the word sharp and definitive. “Your dragon would hate that. You’ve suppressed him most of your life, bar the few times you give him the freedom to stretch his legs in the ocean. Pushing him down when he’s trying harder to be heard would put you at even greater odds.”
Now fully awake, my dragon raises his head to follow the conversation. “So, what? I should just embrace him and walk around with scales all the time? What if my horns appear too?”I flash back to waking up in bed as a child, covered in scales, long horns protruding from my head, as my screams summon my grandmother to find me wholly transformed. It’s a memory that hasn’t surfaced in many years, but since Eleanor’s been back, it haunts me often. She deserves to know the whole story, no matter how painful it is for me to relive it.
Unaware of the current turmoil in my head, Bodin offers gently, “Horns aren’t the worst thing in the world.” The thought makes me think of Ren and how cool his horns look. Maisie doesn’t seem to mind them. Could I hope that Eleanor would accept mine too?
“Does your dragon like Eleanor?” Arran asks, his brows furrowed contemplatively.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yeah, he really does. He’s been more communicative with his feelings lately. My scales appear anytime we’re worried or happy about anything related to her.”
Bodin clasps a hand on my shoulder. “Beck, do you like Eleanor? Like ‘big romantic feelings’ like her?”
This time, the answer comes easily, and with it, a hefty boulder falls off my shoulders and rolls into the sea. “Yeah, I do.” It’s oddly liberating to share with my friends feelings I’ve been wrestling alone with for some time. “It started out as reconnecting as friends. I didn’t expect anything more to develop, but my feelings have been slowly building with each afternoon spent together, each boat ride, each phone call.” My mouth tugs up at the corners as I hold my hands out to describe the analogy that’s playing in my mind. “It’s like our friendship when we were kids was a tiny foundation, but as adults we’vebuilt on to that, one brick of conversation at a time. The walls around us are growing strong, and lately, we’ve added windows too. But I want more. I want a roof. A home. A relationship. I want Eleanor to be mine.”
Arran clasps his hands together and stands up, turning toward us with more animation in his eyes than I’ve witnessed from him until now. “You know what you need to do? You need to enter into a courtship with this girl if you’d like to win her heart. Prove to Eleanor that you’re worthy of her affection.”
Confused, I glance at Bodin who looks rather entertained. “Courtship?”
“Aye,” Arran states confidently. “It shows intention and requires thoughtful planning and consideration designed for your female in particular. I’ve seen it work. Most of the time.”
Liking the sound of that, I lean forward and ask, “How do I do that?”
Bodin rubs his hands together eagerly as he stands up. “I can give you a couple of tips about things that worked for me. Though if all of us put our heads together, we can come up with a foolproof plan. But let’s do that in the morning. I need to go home and check on my pregnant wife. Fuck, that feels good to say out loud.” Heading away from us at a brisk jog, Bodin calls over his shoulder, “Let’s meet at Ren’s cottage after breakfast. I know he’ll have some really good ideas too.”
