13. Chapter 13
Chapter 13
Coffee Confessions
Aubrey
My keys jingle traitorously as I try to sneak into the apartment at—I squint at my phone—9:47 AM. Today is one of Maggie’s days off. Maybe she’s still asleep. Maybe she won’t notice I’m wearing yesterday’s clothes, or that my hair is a disaster, or that I’m pretty sure I have scale imprints on my—
“Well, well, well.”
Shit.
Maggie’s leaning against our tiny kitchen counter, coffee mug in hand and unholy glee written all over her face. Her current hair color, a bold mix of purple and teal, somehow makes her knowing smirk even more irritating.
“Late night at work?” She raises her eyebrows. “Must have been quite the inventory count. Your shirt’s on inside out, by the way.”
I glance down. Double shit.
“I, uh…” My brain scrambles for an excuse, but it’s still foggy from this morning’s goodbye kiss. Who knew nagas could do that thing with their tongues? Focus, Aubrey! “There was this really complicated… filing system… thing.”
“Uh-huh.” Maggie takes a long, deliberate sip of coffee. “And did this filing system happen to involve your boss’s extremely impressive tail?”
The heat rushing to my face could power a small city. “I need a shower,” I mutter, making a strategic retreat toward the bathroom. “And sleep. Not necessarily in that order.”
“Oh honey,” Maggie calls after me, “you are not getting off that easy! I want details!”
I slam the bathroom door, but I can still hear her cackling. As I turn on the shower, waiting for the ancient pipes to produce something resembling hot water, I catch my reflection in the mirror.
My lips are still slightly swollen, and there’s definitely a mark on my neck that my shirt won’t cover. But it’s my eyes that give me pause—they’re bright, almost glowing, like I’ve swallowed starlight.
The memory of Sundar’s golden gaze floods back, how he had whispered, “Mine.” The way his tail had wrapped around me, possessive yet gentle, scales smooth and cool against my heated skin…
The mirror’s starting to fog up, and it’s not just from the steamy shower.
As I step under the hot spray, my body reminds me exactly how thoroughly we spent the night together. There are slight impressions from his scales along my thighs and hips, each one a memory of where his tail held me.
They don’t hurt—if anything, pressing my fingers against them sends little shivers through me. God, the way he’d moved, the feeling of being completely surrounded and wrapped up by him…
But now, in the harsh light of day, and with my brain actually functioning, doubts start creeping in like unwanted houseguests.
What if this was just a heat-of-the-moment thing for him? I mean, he’s literally centuries old. He’s probably had tons of lovers, including that gorgeous naga ex of his. And I’m just… me. The girl who still can’t figure out how to fold a fitted sheet and sometimes has cereal for dinner.
By the time I finish my shower and collapse into bed, my mind is spinning faster than our ancient washing machine. I set an alarm for a few hours’ nap, but sleep comes surprisingly easy. Maybe it’s the emotional exhaustion, or maybe it’s the lingering comfort of how safe I felt wrapped in Sundar’s coils.
When I wake up, the afternoon sun is streaming through my window, and the apartment smells like a fresh batch of coffee. I’m wearing my comfiest sweats as I begin heading to the kitchen before I remember what’s waiting for me.
Sure enough, Maggie’s stationed at our tiny kitchen table with two mugs and an expression that says I’m not escaping this time.
“So,” she says, sliding one of the mugs toward me. “Spill. And I don’t mean the coffee.”
I slump into the chair across from her, wrapping my hands around the warm mug. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“How about you start with why you’re walking like you rode a horse? Or should I say, a snake?”
“Maggie!” I sputter coffee everywhere while she cackles. “It wasn’t… I mean, we didn’t… Okay, fine, we totally did.”
“Look, this is strictly best friend concern here,” Maggie insists, though she’s already reaching for her phone where I know she keeps her “Monster Match” notes. “Though, you know, if you happened to want to share any logistical details…”
“Oh my God, I am not a case study for your monster dating consultancy!”
“But think of all the lonely humans out there, desperately wondering if naga anatomy is compatible with—”
I chuck a dish towel at her head. “Focus! I’m having a crisis here!”
“Right, right. Sorry.” She sets her phone aside, but I notice she leaves her notes app open. Typical. “So… Was it good? I mean, obviously it was good—you’re practically glowing. But like, emotionally good? Did he do the whole possessive monster thing? Details, babe!”
I sink lower in my chair, face burning. “It was… intense. Like, I’ve never felt anything like it. The way he looked at me, Mags. Like I was something precious. And God, his tail…” I trail off, once again lost in the memory of smooth scales sliding against my skin.
“Aaaand?” Maggie prompts, leaning forward eagerly.
“And now I’m terrified I’m reading too much into it!” The words burst out of me. “What if this is just a fling for him? He’s this powerful, ancient creature who probably has women throwing themselves at him all the time. And I’m just… I couldn’t even hold down a bastard like Derek.”
“Okay, first of all?” Maggie holds up a finger. “Derek was a soggy piece of Wonder Bread who thought the missionary position was kinky. Second? I’ve walked by the pawn shop a few times and seen how Sundar looks at you when you’re not watching. Trust me, this is not just a fling.”
I fidget with my coffee mug, tracing the rim with my finger. “You don’t understand. You haven’t seen his ex. Nalini—she’s like… Imagine if Cleopatra and Medusa had a baby, but make it extra spicy and venomous. And I’m over here stress-eating Pop-Tarts at 3 AM and watching true crime documentaries in my ratty pajamas.”
“Aubrey.” Maggie’s voice gets that stern edge that means she’s about to drop some wisdom on me. “Has it occurred to you that maybe Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Scaly is tired of perfect? That maybe what he wants is someone real?”
“I’m plenty real. Real messy. Real broke. Real—”
“Real caring,” Maggie cuts in. “Real funny. Real brave. Need I remind you that you’re the only person who can sass him without getting that scary cobra hood flare thing? Mrs. Brindlewood told me all about how well you handle him when he gets all broody and dramatic.”
“You’ve been talking to Mrs. Brindlewood?” I nearly drop my mug. “How do you even know her?”
“Oh, right!” Maggie brightens. “Remember that monster-friendly bookshop I told you about? The one where I’ve been doing research for my matchmaking business? Turns out Mrs. Brindlewood hosts this weekly tea circle there for, and I quote, ‘distinguished monster ladies and their human allies.’ Which basically means she gossips with anyone who’ll listen while showing off her latest shopping finds.”
I groan, slumping deeper into my chair. “Of course she does. And of course you know her. You’re like some kind of supernatural networking savant.”
“Hey, when you’re trying to build a monster-human matchmaking empire, you learn to spot opportunities. And Mrs. B is basically a living encyclopedia of who’s dating who in the monster community.” She pauses, giving me a pointed look. “Though she did seem particularly interested in a certain naga shopkeeper and his human assistant…”
“Oh God.” I bury my face in my hands. “Please tell me she hasn’t been spreading rumors about us.”
“More like spreading hope? Apparently, the monster community is desperate for more successful human-monster couples. You two could be, like, their poster children!”
“That’s a lot of pressure I didn’t need right now, thanks.”
“Look,” Maggie says, her voice softening. “What I’m trying to say is that this isn’t just some random hookup. From everything Mrs. B has told me about monster relationships, especially naga ones, they don’t do casual. And speaking of non-casual…” She leans forward, eyes sparking with that look that usually means I’m about to be pushed way out of my comfort zone. “When are you going to ask him on a real date?”
I nearly choke on my coffee again. “A what now?”
“A date,” Maggie repeats slowly, like she’s talking to a particularly dense child. “You know, that thing where two people who are attracted to each other go somewhere that isn’t a magical pawn shop full of cursed objects, and actually talk about their feelings?”
“We talk!” I protest. “Just yesterday we had a whole conversation about proper cataloging methods for haunted jewelry.”
“Wow. Hot.” Maggie rolls her eyes so hard I’m worried they might get stuck. “Let me be real with you: You’ve done things backwards here. Most people date first, but you two jumped straight to the ‘wrapped up in his bed’ part—which, again, we will discuss in detail later for research purposes—but now you need to backtrack and do the romantic stuff.”
“I don’t know…” I trace a coffee stain on our ancient tablecloth. “What would I even suggest? I don’t know what he likes to eat. Besides gummy worms, I guess. What if he prefers live mice or something?”
“Aubrey.” Maggie reaches across the table and grabs my hands. “First of all, you’ve literally seen him eat Mrs. Brindlewood’s scones. Second, he’s not some wild animal—he’s a sophisticated, centuries-old being who probably has better table manners than both of us combined. And third…” She squeezes my hands. “You’re spiraling.”
“I’m not spiraling! I’m just… considering all possible scenarios. Like what if we go somewhere public and people stare? Or what if it’s terrible and awkward and ruins everything? Or what if—”
“Or what if it’s amazing?” Maggie cuts in. “What if you actually let yourself believe that this gorgeous, powerful creature who literally wrapped himself around you last night might actually want something real with you?”
The memory of Sundar’s intense golden eyes flashes through my mind: the way he’d looked at me this morning over breakfast, like I was something precious he couldn’t quite believe was real.
“Fine,” I mutter, my resolve crumbling under Maggie’s relentless optimism and my own traitorous heart. “But if this goes sideways, you’ll owe me a dozen pints of ice cream.”
“Deal. Now, let’s strategize.” Maggie whips out her phone again, fingers flying over the screen. “According to my research, nagas appreciate cultural experiences. What about that new fusion restaurant downtown? The one with the private booths?”
“You mean the place where appetizers cost more than my weekly grocery budget?”
“Girl.” Maggie fixes me with a look. “You’re dating a literal treasure-hoarding mythical being. I think he can handle the check.”
“We’re not dating!” I protest weakly. “We just… spent the night together. And the morning. And he made me breakfast. And told me I was his…” I trail off, realizing I’m not helping my case.
“Uh-huh.” Maggie’s grin is unbearable. “And did he do that thing where his tail wraps around you possessively? Because according to Mrs. B, that’s basically naga for ‘put a ring on it.’”
I cover my face to hide my blushing cheeks. Because yes, his tail had been doing exactly that all morning, and I’d be perfectly content to have him do that to me for the rest of my life. I’m just about to attempt to deny everything when my phone buzzes. I quickly glance at the screen, seeing it’s a text from Sundar:
I hope you are having a lovely and restful afternoon. Miss you.
My heart does a little flip. Maggie, who’s obviously craning her neck to read it, lets out a squeal that could shatter glass.
“This is perfect timing! Text him about dinner!”
“Now?!” Panic rises in my throat. “Shouldn’t I wait? Play it cool?”
And there it is—that familiar anxiety creeping in. Why am I so nervous? We’ve literally been as intimate as two beings can be, and yet the thought of asking him on a proper date has my stomach in knots.
Then it hits me: the last time I tried to pursue anything real, anything beyond the physical, was with Derek. And look how that turned out—with him slowly chipping away at my confidence, making me second-guess my every decision, every feeling, until I barely recognized myself.
But… when was the last time I even thought about Derek? I realize with a start that I can’t remember. Somewhere between Sundar’s quiet strength and gentle protection, between his fierce passion and tender care, thoughts of my ex had just… faded away. Like old photographs left too long in the sunlight.
Because this is different. Sundar doesn’t try to change me or control me. He wants me exactly as I am. Maybe that’s why the thought of asking him out terrifies me so much. Because this could be real. This could be everything.
“Aubrey.” Maggie’s voice breaks through my spiral. “I can’t handle the anticipation. And I’m sure he can’t either. So type something!”
She has a point. Still, my fingers shake slightly as I type out a response:
Miss you too. Hey, random question: Would you maybe want to get dinner with me sometime? There’s this new fusion place downtown.
I hit send before I can overthink it, then immediately shove my phone across the table like it’s going to explode. Maggie dives for it.
“Oh, no you don’t,” she says, snatching it up. “You’re going to sit here and wait for his response like a grown woman. Ooh, look!”
She hands me back my phone. Three dots appear on my screen. Disappear. Appear again. My heart is somewhere in my throat.
I would love nothing more. I need to get all my appraisal paperwork finished and certified today, so how about tomorrow night?
I respond with, Perfect, see you then , and set my phone back down.
The relief that floods through me is embarrassingly intense. Maggie’s victory dance around our tiny apartment isn’t helping.
“See?” she crows. “What did I tell you? The fusion place is totally monster-friendly—I’ve already vetted it for my clients. Now, about what you’re going to wear—”
I’m barely listening, too busy staring at my phone with what must be the goofiest smile. Because tomorrow night, I have a date with a naga. An actual, proper date.
“Earth to Aubrey!” Maggie waves her hand in front of my face. “This is serious business. We need something that says ‘Yes, I let you wrap your tail around me last night, but I’m also a lady who deserves to be wooed.’” She pauses. “Also something that won’t wrinkle too badly when said tail goes all boa constrictor on you.”
“Maggie!”
But I’m laughing as I follow her to my closet, my heart lighter than it’s been in years. Maybe this is crazy. Maybe I’m in way over my head.
But for once, I can’t wait to find out.