Candy Hearts, Vol. 2

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

ARDSLEY

The best part about the MM Institute isn’t the massive vistas of the Pacific Ocean, but the fact that it’s also a museum and community center. No, actually the best part is all the research done for both marine wildlife and monsters. Yes, there are several organizations devoted to helping monsterkind―a third of the population are paranormal creatures, and that number is growing―but the MM is based on ocean life. Despite my proclivity for marshes and rivers, the MM has helped me tremendously, and I’m eternally grateful I have a job here.

Right now, I’m grateful it’s walking distance from the local fitness center and makes for a decent excuse for an impromptu lunch date. This handsome and fit human feels so guilty. Yes, I’m sad that the lock Mom got me is broken, but I have dozens of other things at home she bought for me. I was mostly pissed that a stranger went through my clothes and saw my jockstrap.

But now this sexy guy feels so bad that he wants to buy me lunch. So, here we are, eating at the café an hour before work starts. I try not to gaze at this gorgeous dark-skinned man as he digs into his chicken wrap across the table. His braids are pristine, and he’s wearing a white tank top underneath a green hoodie. He’s every kind of sexy, and I bite my lip and try to check him out in a subtle way. Patrons are milling about, eating lunch at the various metal tables, but it’s like we’re in our own little world. With the two of us sitting here, I can pretend that this is a real date, and not some guilt-trip food excursion.

“This place is awesome,” Tyson remarks, looking around.

“Yeah, it’s convenient to get some wizard sandwiches and french frights right before work. They also serve scare-rambled eggs in the morning.” I dig into my monster-themed food.

“I should come here more often,” he remarks. We turn to our left where a group of kids lines up as the one parent orders food. The youngsters laugh and shift into and out of their werewolf forms, and I smile. I used to be so afraid of shifting in public, but the world grows more and more accepting of monsters every day.

I take a bite of my seaweed wrap and Tyson fixes his gaze on me. There’s no way a stud like him is checking me out, right?

“So, can I ask you a super personal question?” He taps the table.

Oop, here it comes . “You…want to know if I’m a monster?”

He tucks in his lip and nods shyly. “Plenty of humans work here. But yes, I am…in fact…a shifter.”

He sips his drink and looks away. “I, um…noticed you shifting earlier.”

“Great,” I mutter. He already found out I’m a monster, and for a lot of humans, that’s a date ruiner. Not that this is a date.

“I think it’s cool that the local fitness center is so…accommodating to monsters.” Tyson shrugs and gives a half-smile. “What with the four different types of pools.”

I grin and shrug. “Yeah, I uh…prefer river water, so…that’s why I go.”

“What kind of shifter are you?” He puts up his hands. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

My smile fades and I gaze around at the café, feeling a shyness take over me. Patrons are enjoying their meals, monsters and humans alike are laughing, and red-and-pink décor lines the tables. Crap, I forgot it’s almost Valentine’s Day.

“I’m…sorry.” Tyson gazes at his plate on the table. “First I fuck up your lock, and now I’m asking crazy personal questions.”

“Dude, it’s fine.” I smile and dig into my food. “The MM Institute helped me a lot as a kid since I was hit by the Halloween Wave.” I clench my fists, take a deep breath, and fixate on the metal table. “I’m a maritime monster. I’m…an eel-shifter.”

“Oh, that’s really cool,” Tyson says. I look up to witness him casually eating his food.

After a beat, I ask, “You…don’t have any other questions?”

“No.” He smiles, his brown eyes meeting mine. The black stubble on his chin makes him look extra manly. “You gotta be who you are, no matter what anyone says.”

Monster god, the deep tenor of his voice is a turn-on.

I turn my attention back to my plate. “Yes, well… the MM Institute helped, and now I get to work here. So, I like giving back.”

“That’s awesome. What do you do?”

I fail at biting back my grin. He’s not interested in me, he’s simply making small talk, right? “I assist with river shifter monsters, but I also do a lot of the media tours and afterschool programs. My coworkers are my friends, and they do research and can act as liaisons for ocean-based monsters who aren’t used to living on land.”

“That’s a thing?” Tyson’s eyebrows scrunch together. “Sorry I’m…new to town, and I’ve never been friends with a monster.”

We’re friends now?! Gush .

I clear my throat. “Well, we’re trying to start that. There’s…rumors of shifters who never assimilated to land after the Halloween Wave.”

“That was over twenty years ago!”

“Exactly.” I finish my meal and reluctantly clean up, not wanting this conversation to end. “You think isolated cults are bad? Imagine putting fins on them and having them swim around the ocean for a generation and raised by like sharks or something.”

We chuckle and both get up to put away our trays. “I can see how that can make life difficult. How’d you avoid that?”

“I’m not exactly the most well-adjusted monster in California.” I smirk and play with my backpack straps.

Tyson snickers. “You seem really cool and confident to me.”

Did he just look me up and down? No way is this stud into me. I cough. “I grew up on land. But still, I was homeschooled for most of my life. Which would have been fine, but both my parents kept getting sick. I graduated high school, then Mom died…”

My voice trails off as we walk to the lobby.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Tyson plays with his black duffel. “And I’m…so sorry for ruining your lock.”

I wave my hand. “Nah…it’s no big deal.”

“I still feel bad.”

“Hey, you got me lunch.”

“But that doesn’t seem like enough. I know I’d be pissed if some guy did that to me. If there’s anything else I could do to make it up to you…”

We walk past the information booths, and I spot red and pink flyers for our upcoming event. The dread of being single this week creeps up my spine.

I scoff. “The Valentine’s Day fundraiser is coming up.” I play with my backpack straps and gaze at the ceiling. “It’s not like you could magically whip me up a boyfriend to take as my date.”

I laugh then look down to spot Tyson’s neutral face. Before he can walk outside, he stops. “Do you need that? Because I’ll do it.”

Huh? “Um…”

“You want a date to the Valentine’s Day…thing?” He steps to the side and taps a flyer on the wall. “It’s here at the MM Institute, right?”

My throat goes dry, but my cock takes a keen interest. No way is he saying what I think he’s suggesting. “Uh, it is.”

“I could be your date.” He beams at me. “Unless you’re ashamed of being seen with a bisexual black guy.” His tone is facetious, but my eyebrows jump anyway.

“No! Not at all! That’s not…”

He snickers and punches me lightly on the shoulder. “I’m playin’, Ardsley. But in any case, I’d be happy to accompany you to the dance if that would make your life easier.”

I bite my lip and fixate on the colorful flyer. Arousal and anxiety go to war in my chest, making my pulse pound in my ears. Tyson is willing to go to the fundraiser with me. “The staff is…encouraged to bring dates,” I murmur. “And it would make my friends shut up.”

“Then it’s settled. I’ll be your date.” He beams at me and a slight tingle of electrical charge flies up my spine. He’s so endearing . “But I’m hella forgetful, so…you should probably give me your number to text me the details.”

He whips out his phone and I promptly text myself. He smiles in satisfaction and my knees wobble with nervousness. Now that was smooth.

“I’m looking forward to being your fake date. This weekend is gonna be awesome.” With one last salute, he steps out the door. “Peace out, Ardsley.”

Once Tyson’s gone, the reality of it all sinks in. In a mere matter of hours, my lock was broken, I made friends with a sexy stranger, and he asked to be my date to the Valentine’s Day fundraiser —fake date, whatever. My socially awkward ass somehow got a date with a hot queer guy.

ZAP .

A tiny spark surges through my skin as I stare, dumbfounded at the clear glass doors. My inner eel is going wild, and I don’t know if I should cheer through the ocean or hide in a bog for a year. I could end up holding hands, dancing, and kissing Tyson?

ZAP.

This time, my electric spark hops out of my clothes and hits the metal in front of me, opening the handicap doors. I gotta get out of here before I blow a fuse. I power walk to my desk, nervous at the thought of texting Tyson. One way or another, this weekend is going to be huge.