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"Yes."

"My llama slippers."

"Unfortunately."

She made the most horrified little squeak I'd ever heard. Then, to my complete bewilderment, she groaned. "I knew those pajamas were embarrassing."

Of all the things she'd just listed... that was the one she chose to worry about.

A year. The word echoed through my head. A whole year. I stood frozen in the middle of the forest path, my basket suddenly feeling twice as heavy. He'd been there... every morning. Every evening. Every grocery trip. Every shift at Maple Grove. Every time I'd cried because one of my patients had passed away. Every terrible movie I'd talked through. Every conversation I'd had with myself because there'd been no one else to talk to.

Every... my stomach dropped. "Oh..." Another horrifying realization hit me. If he'd seen me in my llama slippers, heat flooded my face, then he'd also…

"Oh no." I peeked toward the sound of his voice. "You've also..." I couldn't even finish the sentence.

"Yes."

"Oh..." I swallowed, my face turned even hotter "Oh my God." I covered my face with both hands. "You've seen me naked."

"Accidentally, yes."

"Accidentally?"

"You slipped."

Oh… I remembered a morning, where I had slipped coming out of the shower. But at the last moment I found my balance… I wish I could see him, because right now I really wanted to glare at him. "That was you?"

"I steadied you."

"Why were you even in the bathroom with me?" I wanted to know.

"I am magically tethered to you." He sighed deeply. "We can't be further apart than thirty-three yards."

Thirty-three yards? "Why thirty-three yards?" Why not thirty or forty?

"For crying out loud woman!" He cursed. Some vile words I won't repeat. "I already told you that I have no idea why we're bound together. So how by dragon's fire sakes would I know why the distance is thirty-three yards."

I pouted. "I was just asking."

Silence settled between us. Oddly... it wasn't uncomfortable. I should've been terrified. There was a demon in the woods. An actual demon. One who admitted he'd watched me for an entire year. One who could apparently summon hellfire, destroy mountains, and shatter souls. But I wasn't. I found myself trying to picture him. Tall? Short? Red? Horns? Tail? Pointy ears?

Somehow every image my imagination supplied seemed... wrong.

He sounded... gruff. Perpetually annoyed. Ancient. But underneath all of that... there was something else. He'd never once threatened me. Never raised his voice. Never tried to frighten me. In fact... if what he'd said was true... he'd spent an entire year making sure I never even knew he existed.

And for reasons I couldn't quite explain, my heart had picked up a quicker, warmer rhythm every time that voice rumbled out of nowhere — which made no sense at all, since I still didn't know what he looked like, or even whether “he” was the right word.

"Why?" The word slipped out before I realized I'd spoken. What the hell—I snickered despite myself—but in for a dime, in for a dollar, right? "Why didn't you tell me?"

He muttered something.

"What?"

Another grumble.

"I couldn't hear that."

"...Because I was angry, all right?" The words came out sharp. "I was furious." A short pause, followed by a deep inhale. "I'd been ripped out of my home... bound to a cheerful mortal who speaks to insects and thanks traffic lights."