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"Yes, I did." She looked proud as she squared her shoulders. "I owe my fabulous posture to the ballet classes I took throughout elementary and middle school."
"What happened to make you stop?"
She laughed. "Boys. There were none in my ballet classes."
Frankie
As the music took on a mellow tone, signaling the winding down of the night, the dancers began to exit the floor. Some made their way to the bar for a final drink, while others lingered by the dessert table.
Frankie took Dagor's hand and led him off the dance floor.
"Where are we going?" he asked when she stopped by their table to snatch her purse.
"The Lido deck."
"Why? They are still serving drinks at the bar."
She rolled her eyes. "I want some fresh air."
"Oh." He let her drag him along.
Dagor's romantic intelligence needed some nurturing. It was funny that a god interested in engineering had the same emotional issues as a human interested in the same topics.
Evidently, Toven was right, and there was little difference between humans, immortals, and gods. It made sense since the gods had used their genetic material to create humans.
As they reached the Lido deck, it became apparent that they weren't the only people who had thought about strolling in the fresh air after the party started winding down. Still, thankfully, the place was far from crowded.
"It's beautiful," Frankie said, leaning on the railing and gazing at the vast expanse of the ocean stretching out before her.
The moonlight bathed the gentle waves in a soft glow, making it look magical.
"Yes, you are."
She turned to him and smiled. "You are such a flatterer."
"I mean it." He cupped her cheek and dipped his head to take her lips in a gentle kiss. "I’ve had more fun today with you than I can remember ever having."
That was such a sweet lie. He was probably ancient, and spending time with a mere human was meh compared to the gorgeous goddesses on his home planet.
Arching a brow, Frankie looked at Dagor from under lowered lashes and asked the question she'd been too chicken to ask until now. "How old are you?"
He frowned. "There is no straightforward answer. It depends on your frame of reference. I'm very young for a god."
"What's considered young? Two hundred years, three hundred?"
"I'm sixty-nine, not counting the time I spent in stasis. That adds several hundred years to my lifespan."
"Sixty-nine," she repeated. "You lived for sixty-nine years, and you call yourself very young."
"That's right."
She shook her head. "The way you regard the passage of time will take some adjusting to."
As worry crossed his eyes, he tightened his arm around her waist. "Are you feeling faint?"
"I'm fine." She put her hand on his chest. "I'm no longer shocked by what I learn, so I don't get dizzy. I'm twenty-seven, but since in human years, I've depleted about one-third of my lifespan, I'm much older than you. It's like we count dogs' age differently than human age. For every human year, we count seven dog years."
Smiling, he put a finger on her lips. "Please, stop. It's irrelevant how old we are compared to each other. What matters is that we enjoy each other's company. Right?"
