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“Well? What do you think?”
Melli clapped her hands and smiled up at him.
“You look perfect! Way more human now. Well…” She hesitated. “Except for your size and your, uh, fangs.”
“Ah yes, my fangs.” He ran the tip of his tongue over the sharp ridges thoughtfully.
Melli couldn’t help thinking that the double set of fangs on either side of his upper jaw were much more prominent than they had been when she first met him. They looked longer and sharper—almost savage now.
She suppressed a little shiver and looked away. She’d heard that Blood Kindred liked to bite their mates when they made love but that idea bothered her so she tried not to think about it.
“Well, you’re all set,” she said brightly, putting his fangs out of her mind. “I mean, except for some shoes. You can’t wear your boots with those jeans.”
“I guess not.” He looked down at his feet doubtfully. “But do humans have footwear that will fit me?”
It took a little time but they did, indeed, find some shoes for Liosh to wear and afterwards they had lunch in the food court. Liosh insisted on getting something from each of the vendors and Melli couldn’t help gasping at the mountain of food he brought back to the table.
“Oh my God, I hope you’re going to eat all that because I certainly can’t,” she remarked. “About ninety-nine percent of this stuff is not on my diet.”
“Diet?” Liosh frowned as he looked down at the array of food he’d bought. “Why would you need to diet when you’re already the perfect size?”
“The perfect size?” Melli nearly burst into laughter before she realized he was serious. “Wow, that’s… really nice of you to say but it’s not true. I wish I was the perfect size.”
“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow. “If you’re not the perfect size, then who is?”
“Well, she looks really nice,” Melli observed, pointing surreptitiously at a slender, petite girl who looked to be around a size two walking past their table. “Or she’s really pretty,” she went on, nodding at a tall, thin model-type swaying like a graceful giraffe on the other side of the food court.
Liosh frowned.
“But both of those females are so thin you can see their skeletal structure. Is that really what your people consider attractive?”
“Well, sure.” Melli shrugged. “It’s what most men consider attractive, anyway.”
His frown deepened to a puzzled expression.
“Human males have very strange tastes, then.”
“Not according to social media.” Melli shook her head. “You ought to see some of the Influencers on Instagram.”
“The what on where?” Liosh asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh—it’s a site on the internet.” Melli took out her phone to show him, but realized that the battery had died while she was up in the Mother Ship. “Crap—it’s dead.” She sighed. “Well, I’ll show you on my laptop when we get home.”
“That would be nice. Although if you’re just going to show me more pictures of skeletal women, I’m not sure how much I care to see them,” Liosh said frankly. “Are you honestly going to sit here and tell me you think someone like her is more attractive than a female who has curves, like yourself?”
Melli looked where he was pointing…and could barely suppress a groan. Liosh must have seen the look on her face because he frowned in concern.
“What’s wrong? Why do you look so unhappy all of a sudden? You smell almost panicked.”
“I smell panicked?” Melli frowned at him, then waved aside the strange comment. “It’s just that I know her,” she said in an undertone. “I used to go to high school with her and now she’s in my Sociology class this semester. It’s like I can’t get away from her.”
The “her” in question was none other than Amanda Brannigan, former head cheerleader of the Midtown Mustangs and the same girl who had set her up on her fateful date with Jason Sykes.
Just seeing her tied Melli’s stomach in knots. Unfortunately, Amanda seemed to know that because she always made a point to stop and talk to Melli every time she saw her.
Or maybe “torment” might be a better word.
Melli looked away, hoping not to be noticed but no such luck. Amanda spotted her and made a beeline straight for their table, a nasty-nice smile plastered on her pretty face as her size-zero, non-existent ass swayed with the motion of her impractically high heels. Her bouncy auburn hair, which looked shiny enough to be in a shampoo commercial, fluttered becomingly with each step and her cute little nose with three perfect freckles across the bridge wrinkled in a way every boy at Midtown High had found unbearably sexy and adorable.
“Well, hello Melli-the-belly,” she said, using the unkind nickname Melli had been stuck with in high school even after she’d lost some weight. “And what are you doing here?”
