Total pages in book: 254
Estimated words: 240032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1200(@200wpm)___ 960(@250wpm)___ 800(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 240032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1200(@200wpm)___ 960(@250wpm)___ 800(@300wpm)
“I was headed that way too,” he said, brushing my shoulder.
I guess we were going together, I thought, as we headed in the direction of the kitchen.
“Agnes is eating dinner with Ema and her family tonight,” he told me, his nostrils suddenly widening, a frown coming over his face as he seemed to smell… something.
Ema was one of the elders, I remembered. Silver-Blue Hair lady.
I slowed down right when we were beside the door to Franklin’s bedroom. Were those voices coming from the kitchen or was I imagining it? No, I could sense a concentration of magic coming from across the house.
Werewolves, a lot of them, if I was right.
I peeked at Henri to see what he thought, but his expression was more confused than concerned, so it couldn’t be anything or anyone bad. It was probably the elders. They hadn’t approached me about the gnomes after all, and I’d kind of been waiting to get bombarded any time.
Which made me think about the other things I had been waiting around for.
I scratched behind my ear. “Do you know if Randall is eating dinner here tonight?”
He glanced down, his bone structure stunning in the overhead light. “Yeah. Why?”
“I wanted to talk to him about something.”
People thought cats were curious. They had nothing on werewolves. “You can talk to me.”
How could he make my life so complicated without even knowing it?
I peeked at him out of the corner of my eye… and he caught me, a suspicious expression already shaping his features. There is nothing to feel guilty over. “I was going to ask if he could help me meet potential mates here, since they’re all lining up to get to know me.” I snickered. “Get it? Since the only people I know are the kids and their parents?”
Henri literally slowed down. His eyebrows went up along his lightly lined forehead. He looked… he looked….
I squinted. “What?”
“You want to meet…” His cheek did that thing it did when it flexed. “Men?”
I might as well have named some demonic creature.
“Yeah?” I answered. Why did I want to start fidgeting? Why did I feel guilty? I wasn’t doing anything wrong, and yet…. “Sienna just got into my head, and it hit me that I’m kind of on a time crunch. It’s been over a month since we got here, already. A year will go by like nothing. I need to find a way for us to stay. I know some people think we might flake, but we aren’t, and if it takes me being the forward one, then”—I lifted my arms—“I’m game.”
If I’d thought I had ever heard his voice come out funny before, it was nothing compared to how it sounded next. Like he’d sucked on something sour. “What does that mean?”
Had he said that awful slow too or was I imagining it?
And there went the guilt again. I didn’t want to clarify. I also didn’t want to look at him when I answered, so I focused on the wall ahead. “You know what that means.”
“I don’t,” he argued.
How could I feel so uncomfortable so fast? I was doing what I had to. What their guidelines, or bylaws or whatever they were called, asked for. Was I being weird because I found Henri so attractive… and liked him more than a little… and he was the person I was asking for help?
Possibly. But... it had to be done.
It was one thing for me to recognize that Henri liked me as a friend and maybe didn’t hate looking at me, but it was something else to expect him to marry me.
Especially after the way he’d reacted, literally not responding, when I’d told him what Matti had suggested.
There had been that peck on the temple the other night, but that had been it.
And if I thought that was a shame, then it was on me.
I shoved the urge to fidget as deep inside of me as I could. “You know. I need to put myself out there. Maybe I need to go buy a push-up bra or walk around in a bikini or… do something to stir up some interest.” I dropped my voice and my shoulders. “I need to meet people.”
My best friend’s cousin stared down at me.
Was the vein by his temple throbbing or was it an optical illusion?
But really, what did he expect? I was the one on a schedule. I was the one riding a whole lot of hope into this whole ordeal. I meant what I said. This had to work, and I was going to do whatever was necessary to make it happen. I could put it off a little while, but the sooner I met someone, the sooner I could get to know them, that was a fact.
Why did I want to squirm justifying that?
Henri’s jaw worked from side to side very subtly.