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“Oh.” I shifted awkwardly. “Uh, I’m sorry—”
“Oh no, don’t be sorry. He’s a worm. Do you hear that, Gorig? You’re a worm,” she barked down the phone, then stepped out of the line. “Go ahead of me, darling. I’m not done ripping him to shreds.”
“Um, thank you.”
I stepped forward as she moved past, but then I saw her gaze land on Greid and grow hot with appreciation. Her yellow eyes trailed down his frame slowly. For some reason, I got the urge to grab his arm and tug him to me.
But Greid was already shuffling closer until his arm bumped mine. Strangely possessive satisfaction flowed through me, and something slightly ugly made me touch his arm and nod at the food in the display, just in case he was looking back at the other demiurgus as she left.
Which—what? What was wrong with me? I’d made it very clear I wasn’t interested in anything like that, and he’d made it equally clear. I was being silly.
“Some of those look interesting,” I said, unable to think of any other reason for diverting his attention. “Are you gonna get some?”
He gave me a dry look, which made me laugh. “Just because you can skip an entire meal doesn’t mean I can—or want to. I’ll get mean if I don’t get some food in me soon.”
Choosing not to bring up the yoghurt he’d been wolfing down when I found him in the kitchen, I snorted and shook my head. “I don’t think you have a mean bone in your body, Greid.”
The last person ahead of us finally stepped to the side to wait by the counter for their drink. Before I could move, I felt Greid place a warm hand between my shoulder blades. Tingles raced from the spot, but he whipped his hand away just as fast.
He cleared his throat. “Sorry.”
When I turned to look at him, his ears were fluttering. Smiling, I said, “Casual touches are okay, remember?”
“Oh, right. Yeah.” He let out a squawk of nervous laughter, then cringed as a few heads turned in our direction. “Sorry. Um, ready to order?”
“Yes.” I stepped up to the counter and gave the waiting demiurgus barista a big smile. Yes, look, I’m just a friendly, normal human. I wasn’t in a cult that worshipped your kind as sex gods! Not me! “Hi there. Can I please have a, um…”
“Mocha,” Greid supplied quietly.
“Mocha,” I echoed to the barista.
“What size?”
“Oh! Um…” I quickly tried to scan the board for their drink sizes. The barista shifted in front of me, long fingers poised over the register screen.
“While you’re deciding, why don’t I give my order?” Greid asked. I gave him a grateful nod, stepping to the side so he could stand beside me.
I felt so stupid. Like a little kid. Why was I sweating? The barista had only asked what freaking drink size I wanted, for god’s sake. It felt like I was playing pretend. Like I’d smeared on my mother’s lipstick and waddled out of the house in her high heels thinking it made me an adult.
I finally spotted the various sizes on offer, then got distracted as Greid rattled off his drink order and about six different food items, including something called a blood tart, which made me side-eye him. After telling the barista what size I wanted, Greid held his phone to the little machine in front of the register before I realised what he was doing.
I gave his arm a gentle thump as we moved to the side to wait. “I wanted to pay for that!”
“Oh. Sorry.” Greid shoved his phone back in his pocket. “Well, you only ordered a tiny coffee and I got a load of food, so it wouldn’t have been fair anyway.”
I huffed and went to argue, but got distracted when a barista leaned over the counter to hand Greid a big paper bag with the Deep Brew logo on the front. He immediately pulled a pastry out and bit into it, and—yep. The little square tart was definitely filled with something thick, jellified and very dark red.
Stomach roiling a little, I asked, “Is that really a… Is that really blood?”
“Uh-huh,” Greid answered through a mouthful.
“What kind of blood?”
He swallowed and looked down at me, yellow eyes solemn. “Do you really want to know?”
“What?” My stomach jolted, and I cast the half-eaten tart a fearful look. “It’s not… Is it..?”
When he snickered, I huffed and punched his arm again. “Dork.”
