When I finished, I debated changing what I wore, which reminded me that I still had Oanen’s clothes in the car. Playing it safe, I fetched his things and left them on the porch before settling in the living room to watch some TV.
I clicked through the channels absently, tension robbing me of the ability to focus. Nervous was a new thing for me, and I hated it. But, there was just something about Oanen. The more we spent time together, the more I was drawn to him.
The knock on the back door made my pulse jump. Wiping my hands on my jeans, I went to answer it.
Barefoot and holding a foil-wrapped pan, Oanen waited on the porch.
“Thanks for leaving out the clothes,” he said, a slight grin tugging the corner of his mouth.
“Thanks for putting them on.”
I stepped aside and let him in.
“It smells amazing in here. Lasagna?” he asked.
“No.” I closed the door and followed him to the table, which I’d already set. “I figured you had that once already, so I went with something different. Stuffed chicken parmesan. What did you bring?”
He set the pan down and removed the foil.
“Eliana swore that you meant something chocolate when you said bring dessert.”
I hungrily eyed the powdered brownies.
“Eliana is very wise,” I said. “Ready to eat?”
“Sure.”
We sat and started with the salad. My stomach wouldn’t stop freaking out. Neither would my racing pulse. Although I knew he could hear it, he didn’t comment.
“Eliana mentioned you two might be going to the Roost Friday,” he said after I served him some salad.
When I’d texted her, I’d said to let me know where and when she wanted to hang out. I’d rather hoped she would pick a movie night at my house.
“I guess. She wanted to hang out.”
“You don’t seem too enthused.”
I sighed and played with my salad.
“It’s not that. I do want to hang out with her. I’m just feeling off.”
“Sick?”
“I’ve never been sick in my life.”
“Me either. Just checking, though. So what is it?”
“I don’t know. I’m just feeling…” I closed my eyes and tried to release the tension that had crept into my shoulders.
His hand closed over mine, trapping my idly moving fork. I opened my eyes and met his gaze.
“You can talk to me,” he said. “About anything.”
“Okay,” I said, knowing he meant it. I took a deep calming breath and spilled my biggest worry.
“Adira said that how I look now isn’t my true form, and I’m freaking out about what I might turn into. I don’t know what I’ll look like. When I’ll change. Nothing.”
“That’s what you’ve been looking for in the library?” His thumb smoothed over the back of my hand.
“Yes, which really ticks me off for so many different reasons. What’s the point of a super-secret library that almost no one can use if it barely contains any information? And, if I don’t exist there, what else is missing? It’s like I’m watching every other episode of a crime series. How can I piece everything together and see the full picture if I don’t have all the clues?”
“Remember when I said Adira is big on struggling for knowledge? It’s the same for self-discovery. You’ll figure this out.”
“Before or after I turn into some raving monster?”
He released my hand and sat back in his chair.
“Is that how you see my true form? As a monster?”
He didn’t look or sound angry, but that didn’t stop my guilt.
“No. I like your feathers and wings.”
“And my beak?”
“It’s growing on me,” I said with a slight smile.
“Your true form won’t be any more monstrous than mine. And, while it might be different and take some time for you to get used to, you’ll accept it as part of who you are. So will I.”
“You’re so getting an extra brownie for that,” I said, picking up my fork. “Have I been missing anything fun by hiding in the library?”
“Not really. We’ve moved on to practical demonstration for the second half of the semester. I’ve successfully mastered the art of ordering takeout food.”
“I hope you understand how useless that is.”
“Useless to you and me but there are some who do need the practice. Remember the troll, Epsid? He tried ordering bone dust as a pizza topping.”
“Wow.” I finished my salad and excused myself to remove the chicken parmesan from the oven.
“Why are the parents not teaching these skills to their children at a younger age? If they learn from really early on, this wouldn’t be such a big deal now.”
“Some kinds hide their young away from everyone until they reach eleven or twelve. By then, certain concepts are already set.”
“Like eating human bones.”
“Yeah.”
I served Oanen one of the stuffed breasts along with a bed of angel hair pasta then served myself.
“I can’t wait to see what you make for our next date,” he said, cutting into his portion.
“Oh, I’m not cooking for the next one. You are.”
He looked up at me, a grin pulling his lips.
“That’s a deal. What kind of foods do you like?”
“Anything really. I’ve never been very picky.”
We continued discussing favorite foods, books, movies, colors, and any other bit of information he could pull from me, or I from him, as we finished dinner. The conversation didn’t stop at the table. It flowed through the clean-up and into the living room. There, it died a sudden death when he sat on the couch and patted the spot beside him.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” I asked, nervous once more.
“Yes.”
Since I already knew he liked fantasy and science fiction because it amused him how wrong the movie industry got things, I picked out something that sounded interesting.
“Are you going to stand the rest of the night?” he asked when I hesitated to set the remote down and join him.
“Maybe.”
“Megan.” He stood and held out his hand over the coffee table. I clasped it and let him reel me toward his side. Without letting go, he sat then tugged my fingers until I sat beside him. Like the hug in the hallway, it felt right to lean into his side.
I turned my head and looked up at him. Our faces were close. Deliciously close. My pulse hitched higher.
“What are you so nervous about?” he asked, studying me.
I swallowed hard and went for brutal honesty, as usual.
“Kissing you.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then, I think maybe we should just get it out of the way.”
He closed the distance between us and lightly pressed his lips to mine. A bolt of heat shot through me at first contact. I inhaled deeply through my nose and reached for his shoulders, desperate for an anchor. He opened his mouth and licked the seam of my lips. I answered his silent plea and let him in. My senses flooded with the taste and feel of him, and I groaned. He changed the angle of the kiss a moment before his arms slid around me, pulling me into his lap.
A desperation crawled into my blood. A burning need to consume. To take. To release the wild thing I’d felt for Oanen since the moment he’d squatted beside me on the road.
I broke the kiss with a gasp for air.
He leaned forward and rested his forehead just over my pounding heart. His ragged breathing blended with mine for several long moments.
“Still nervous?” he asked.
“No. Now, I’m terrified.”
And I mostly meant it. That out of control feeling now lingered just beneath the surface. It felt like I’d unlocked something, and despite his reassurances during dinner, I didn’t want to know what.
“Me too,” he said softly. He lifted his head and met my gaze. “I’m terrified of losing you.”
He tucked me more firmly against his chest then nodded toward the TV.
It took some effort to pull my gaze from his perfect face and watch the show, but I managed. His fingers wove slow circles over the skin of my arm, relaxing me enough that my heart began to settle into its normal rhythm.
One moment I sat at the library table, frustrated with yet another book that told me nothing about what I would become; the next, I lay on the couch, pinned between Oanen and the back cushions.