Page 49 of Maneater

And now he wants us to build a life together.

Boone jostles me out of my reverie. “Stare any harder, and your eyeballs will fall out.”

I regard him with a smirk. “Charming.” I lean in. “So? What do you think?”

Boone arches his eyebrows. “Who gives a shit what I think? It’s your heart on the line.” He gives me a poke in the arm. “Darien seems like a nice kid, and I’m sure you’ve done due diligence. But if you sense he’s about to go rogue, be sure to let the network know.”

My jaw goes slack. “You don’t mean…?” I swallow hard. “You guys wouldn’t do anything permanent to him, would you?”

This time Boone punches my arm. “Pur-lease. You’re so dramatic. We just want a heads up so we can make ourselves scarce in case anyone takes him seriously.” He snorts. “Which I doubt. But the last thing we need is another stupid reality TV series. The last one was a huge pain in my hairy ass.”

I nod, grateful that no one has taken a particular interest in Howlers. I’d be a nervous wreck otherwise. As I regard Boone, I note how much more relaxed he seems overall. My guess is that Elias has him pretty loved up. It looks good on him.

“Yeah, I bet.” I smile. But I’m not worried. He’s not that kind of person. Plus, he’s moving in with me after Solstice.”

Boone’s eyebrows shoot up. “No shit? Wow. You don’t let any moss grow under your paws.” He gives me a hearty pat on the back. “Congrats. I’m happy for you.” He peers past me. “It would seem someone’s looking for you.”

I peek over my shoulder. A few more humans have gathered around the fire, but Darien's attention is now focused on me. I regard Boone again.

“Hey, would it be cool if we ducked out early? I kinda need to spend some time alone with Darien.”

The corner of Boone’s mouth twitches. “Yeah, I bet you do.” He gives me a shooing motion. “Get outta here. This is a celebration. No one’s holding you hostage.”

“Awesome.” I grin. “I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.” Right as I’m turning, I pause. “Oh, and don’t forget. I have the squirrel tree ready for you to pick up at any time. I think you’ll love it.”

I can’t wait for him to see my masterpiece. I constructed an eight-foot-tall realistic indoor tree with interactive toys and cubbies where Gremlin can hide his nuts.

Boone narrows his eyes. “I’m sure Elias and his bushy-tailed rodent will adore your creation.” He grunts. “I’ll send someone over to collect it before the party.”

I amble over to Darien, my cheeks aching from grinning like a lunatic ever since we’ve arrived at the festivities. Considering I usually either hang back and play with the forest creatures or blab about the intricacies of caring for wildlife as pets—this is quite the improvement.

As I perch on a rock next to Darien, our eyes meet. His wide smile is probably as giddy as my own, and I lick my lips.

I point to a carved wood cup he’s gripping between his hands. From what I remember, Garth gives them to customers at his drink stand whenever they purchase an extra-large.

“Is that from Chupa’s Chilltastic Chalice?”

Darien regards his cup. “I think that’s the name.” He chuckles. “Say that five times fast.”

I draw my eyebrows together. Seems like a weird thing to do. Maybe it’s a human game. “I don’t think I can.”

Darien snorts. “Uh, me neither.” He clears his throat. “Not gonna lie. This is a super cool event. But no way I’ll be able to remember the names of everything and everyone.” He ducks his head. “I’ll get better at it, though. I promise.”

I clasp his wrist. “Hey, don’t you go beating yourself up about that. It has to be strange encountering so many beings and things you’ve never known existed until now. It’s a lot to take in all at once.” I shrug. “That’s the big reason I was worried it might be too soon to bring you. Did I screw up?”

Darien jerks up his head. “No! Not at all. This is definitely the coolest event I’ve ever been to. Thank you so much for trusting me. It means a lot.”

I swallow past a lump in my throat. “It means so much that you accepted my invite.”

I note the curious stares, and a couple of those around are leaning in to hear better, so I steer us away from personal revelations. They can all mind their own damn business.

“So, what drink did you order?”

“That I can answer,” he says. “I made a note of it in my phone. You know, so I can remember for next time.”

Next time. I resist the urge to jump up and down and fist-pump the air like a deranged maniac.

“Ooh, here it is.” His features light up. “It’s a Lemon Squeezy Scream.”