Page 68 of Buckle Up, Buttercup

“He does, though,” she says, “and I can tell, too. Because of the way you look at each other.”

Gulping around the lump in my throat, I debate even responding.

“I’m super glad,” she says. “Because you’re so nice. But Hadrian said we have to keep it a secret because everybody doesn’t know yet. How come you don’t want them to know?”

“It’s complicated.”

She cocks her head to the side. “How, though? Gargoyle mates are fated; nobody can deny that. Is it a human thing to not believe it?”

Oh lawd, I’m not even sure how to respond, so I’m endlessly grateful when Hadrian shows back up from the bathroom. He’s got on a Punishers black-and-gold jersey and tight jeans, some of the ones I just had made for him.

“You two are a sight for sore eyes,” he says. “You ready to go, girls?”

Something about him calling us girls warms places inside me I didn’t even know needed warming. He smiles at me. “I’m thinking we should fly. You alright with that?”

I debate saying I should drive and they can fly, but I’d honestly rather be in his arms than anywhere else.

He waggles both dark brows. “It’s literally just an excuse to have my hands on you.”

“I want that,” I say with a laugh. “I want everybody to know I want that.”

His smile grows thoughtful as Petra and I head for the back of his apartment where we installed an oversized window for him to come and go from. He opens the window, and I stare at his huge biceps flexing beneath purple skin. Petra smirks at me, then rolls her eyes playfully when I pretend I wasn’t looking.

Gods oh gods, if we keep this up, Jasper is gonna figure everything out in two seconds. And maybe that’s fine, in the end.

I’m just not ready to have that conversation today. Although, maybe it would be good because then we could go on a date in public instead of slinking off to other havens to hang out together. This girl is not meant for secret dating. I’m the worst at secrets, which is why I had to immediately talk to Lemon and Oz.

Hadrian pushes the window open, and Petra hops out, dropping a few feet before flapping up and away. He turns to me and opens his arms. “Come here, baby.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him not to call me that in public, but damn, Petra already knows.

Sliding my arms around his neck, I allow him to nestle me around the waist, his big hands on my back and ass. He hops onto the window ledge, easy peasy, and then out into the air.

Which is about the time it occurs to me that anyone in the pumpkin and gourd garden or the flea market or hanging out at the auction house can potentially see us right now. Part of me wants it to happen simply because I can’t and won’t hide him forever. Maybe it’s better to rip off the Band-Aid.

Shit, I can’t even hide against Hadrian’s big frame because I’m the only monster in town with royal blue hair.

Hadrian bullets straight up into the clouds, not slowing until we’re up out of the misty chill. Petra flaps smoothly beside us as we head north toward Rip Shorthorn’s ranch. Icy wind blowing off the mountain range has me shaking despite being in Hadrian’s arms. He flaps faster, bulleting through the sky.

In just a few more cold minutes, we begin to descend out of the sky and back through the clouds. Sunlight filters through, warming me as the wind begins to slow.

Hadrian touches gently down and sets me on the ground, smiling as he drops me to my feet. The Shorthorn barn is behind us. Past that, faint sounds float toward us—children laughing, guys shouting. Playing skyball, if I had to guess based on the reason for the breakfast this morning.

“Hadrian!”

Rip Shorthorn emerges from the barn with his big arms held wide. He wears a big smile as he walks toward us, taking in me and Petra. If he’s surprised to see either of us here, he doesn’t show it.

When he joins us, he bends down and smiles at Petra. “Hello there, youngling. Hadrian tells me you gave him quite the surprise earlier this week. That musta been kind of fun.”

Petra laughs, tail swishing from side to side. “Yeah, I mean, I’ve known about him my whole life, so it was definitely easier for me. Poor Hadrian. Hope it hasn’t affected his skyball skills.”

Shorthorn chuckles. “Your big brother’s a true pro, little one. Separates his personal life from the game. We’re just glad you’re here.”

Petra slings her tail around my waist, pulling herself close to me. I stare between her and Rip Shorthorn, who watches the movement of her tail with apparent interest. A smirk pulls his fuzzy lips slightly upward.

“Must be my turn for a surprise, Miss Tucker,” he says to me. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

I don’t even know what to say to that, but Hadrian comes to my rescue. “Bluebell’s my best friend, Coach.”