Chapter 27 #2
I hadn’t thought much about what it would be like to actually mate someone, even before Aiden, but I knew I wanted it to be nice, at the very least. And I know it will be with Aiden, he’d said as much.
Excitement courses through me and remains even after I’ve finished with my shower.
It makes my fingers shake a little while I button my cotton shirt and tie my hair into a sleek ponytail.
I glance in the mirror and smile at my reflection before I tug two strands loose in the front.
Annoying, yes—but sometimes when they’re free, Aiden played with them and …
I shake my head and leave to find Aiden with my face on fire.
He’s waiting on the large sofa, scrolling through his phone, but he forgets it completely when he looks up and sees me. While I’m in whites and creams, he’s in head-to-toe black—silk button-up, fitted trousers, and those shades of his.
“Aren’t you looking dapper?” he muses.
“So are you,” I reply, watching him stand and make his way over. His tattoos creep past his neck and chest. I don’t let my eyes linger.
“Ooh, a compliment. It really is a special night.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his smile softening for me. “You look great, Jewels.”
“Thank you,” I reply, ducking my head to hide the heat in my face. “Ready?”
“Yes.” He pulls me forward. “The salmon awaits.”
I laugh out loud, and know I won’t stop anytime soon with him at my side.
“What the hell is a Temaki?”
I glance up and find Aiden glaring at his menu.
“I think that’s the cone-shaped one we saw earlier,” I say, flipping through the menu of foreign words. Maybe sushi wasn’t the smartest choice. “Why don’t we try a bit of everything and share?”
I glance at Aiden when he doesn’t reply. He spins his menu around like a toy, or like reading it upside down will suddenly make it clearer. Eventually, he feels my eyes on him and rights the menu with a sheepish smile.
“Sounds good,” he mumbles, and only seconds pass before we’re both laughing. “Question though,” he says, sobering.
“Shoot.”
“I know you said we’d be here the rest of the week, but what day are we heading back?” he asks with a pensive frown.
“Sunday evening, unless we decide to head back earlier.”
“What about the packs?” he asks quickly. “They must know we’re gone by now.”
“We’re on a ‘very important mission,’” I remind him, making him snort. “Four days max. They can survive without us for four days. I left Emitt and Beckett with clear instructions, and they’ll call if we absolutely need to be there.”
“Well, in that case …” he sinks back into his seat with a massive smile. “I guess we better make the most of it.”
“I guess we should,” I reply, lifting my menu an inch higher to hide my smile.
The server comes, and we manage to order by mostly pointing at things. Once they’re gone, I sip my water and let my gaze drift around the restaurant.
There’s not a single empty table. The mix of scents is dizzying. I could smell a pair of werewolves, and by the glances they give us, they scent us as well.
This is the world I used to dream of seeing. A world I’d convinced myself I’d never see once I was chosen as alpha. I eventually accepted that the little human town and the inside of our borders was all I’d ever see of the world.
But that was before Aiden.
Before he became mine and part of my life, and showed me that there was so much out there to see, alpha or not. I glance back at him, heart filling—only to find he’s already looking at me.
“What?” I ask, gingerly setting my cup down.
“Nothing,” he replies, shaking his head. He clears his throat and sits up straighter. “But, Jewels?”
I frown. “Yes?”
“Are we on a date?”
I don’t know why, but the question takes me by surprise.
Maybe it’s because I’ve never heard the word uttered in regard to me, but it throws me for a loop.
Were we on a date? I don’t even know what one looks like, but I suppose we’re at a fancy restaurant, in some of our nicer clothing, and we’re talking without fighting, so …
“I think so,” I say, because I’m too nervous to say yes.
“Okay, then let’s treat it like one,” Aiden replies, just like that, with no nerves at all as he rests his face in his hands.
I shift in my seat. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, let’s act like we’re on a date. Get to know more about each other and all that stuff.”
“… Okay,” I mumble. “But I’m pretty sure I know everything about you.”
“Not everything,” he says, almost flirtatiously, and that’s enough to hook me. “You have to be nice,” he demands with sudden seriousness.
I roll my eyes.
“See that?” He points a finger. “No attitude. I’d like Nice Julian, please.”
“Fine,” I relent—then add my own demand. “I’ll be nice if you take off your shades.”
That makes Aiden stiffen. “Why?”
“Because right now I’m staring into darkness, and if this is a date I want to stare at you.”
I’m embarrassed by my own honesty, but I ignore it as I stare at Aiden, waiting until he slips the shades from his face. He folds them carefully, sets them on the table, and glances up at me almost hesitantly.
I smile the moment I see him, all of him, and it’s impossible to miss the way he breathes a little easier.
“Okay,” he says, clearing his throat. “Date night starts now.”
I nod, giddy until he adds, “What’s your favourite colour?”
“Really?” My disappointment is obvious.
Aiden gives me that look that says be nice.
I sigh. “Fine. White.”
“What kind of a favourite colour is white?” he asks with a look that feels offensive.
“What kind of a favourite colour is black?” I retort.
He narrows his eyes. “How do you know that?”
It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes.
“You wear black more than funeral directors, Aiden,” I remind him with a gesture to his current getup.
It tugs a chuckle from his lips that makes my stomach tighten automatically.
“Okay, my turn,” I say as I shuffle closer to the table.
“Do you have a favourite band or singer?”
“Arctic Monkeys,” he says without hesitation. “You?”
“I don’t have one,” I admit, toying with my napkin. “I haven’t heard much music outside of what the pack plays during celebrations. But these ‘Artic Monkeys’—”
“They can wait,” he interrupts, his eyebrows pulled tight. “You’re telling me you don’t have a favourite singer?”
“There are some songs I hear on the way to school with you,” I offer quickly. “I like those.”
You’d think I shot someone with the way Aiden gasps like a prima donna.
“When we get back, our first order of business is making up for the music you’ve been deprived of,” he says, and he’s so serious about it that I can’t help but laugh. “I’m serious, Julian.”
“Oh, I know,” I promise as my lips stay stretched apart. “I can’t wait.”
Pleased, Aiden nods before he asks, “Cats or dogs?”
“Wolves,” I parry with a smirk that he quickly returns.
The food arrives before I can ask another question, and we wait till they’re gone before we continue.
“Summer or winter?” I ask.
“Oooh.” He stabs into one of the circular rolls with a fork. “Do I have to pick?”
“Yes.” I pick up one of my own.
“Fine—summer.”
I gasp as he bites into the roll. “That’s blasphemy. What kind of werewolf doesn’t love the only season you can really let your fur down?”
“I know! I’m sorry,” he cries dramatically, reaching for another. “This shit is amazing by the way.” He groans as he chews. It is, and we clear an entire plate before he thinks up another question. “Okay, books or—”
“Books,” I answer before he finishes.
“You haven’t even heard—”
“Books, Aiden. It’s always books.”
I pop the next roll into my mouth, eyes fluttering shut. I’m holding one out to him before I’ve even finished my own. “You have to try this one—it has avocado.”
“I love avocado,” he murmurs, leaning in.
“I know.” I stretch my arm out over the small table, grinning.
Aiden meets me halfway. He hesitates for a moment before he takes the bite and falls back into his chair. I linger there, arm still stretched out while I watch him chew, before sense helps me sink back in my seat.
He swallows. “I like it.”
“Good,” I hum.
He clears his throat.
“Continuing, grass or sand?”
I wrinkle my nose. “What kind of question is that?” Aiden shrugs. “I guess both are annoying, but I would say grass is better.”
“Vegetarians,” he mutters, and I snort before I burst out laughing.
“What does that have to do with anything?” I ask as he takes a bite from one of the cones.
“Evhrythinf.”
“Alright, Aiden,” I say, still laughing. I decide on a question I think we’re close enough now for him to answer. “Why don’t you paint anymore?”
“Because you burnt down my art room,” he retorts immediately. The softness behind his gaze is gone now, replaced by a hurt that staggers me.
“You cut off my hair,” I remind him.
“Yeah, and your hair grew back,” he says. “It’s kind of hard to start painting again when you have nowhere to start.”
Aiden looks away then, taking his attention and light with him, leaving me in the shadow of it. I frown, wanting to argue because he hurt me too when he’d cut my hair, but I had grown my hair back. It hadn’t even taken that long, but his art …
I remember it being beautiful, too. I remember hesitating.
A stony silence sinks into the space between us as the bond cools, and I curse myself. I shouldn’t have brought it up so lightly, but I had, so there’s only fixing it now. Scouring for some way to revive this, I look at Aiden and there’s only one thing that comes to mind.
“I like your eyes.”
Aiden stills with his fork halfway to his mouth. His eyes flick up—those deep, dark eyes that he tries to hide.
“What?” he asks, tentative.
He looks skittish—scared. And for a second, I’m terrified I’m about to make this worse, but I’m already in it, and it’s the truth.
“I like your eyes,” I repeat. “I’ve never seen anything like them. They’re like a brownish-black colour. It isn’t really one or the other, but there’s a golden streak over them and they’re nice … to look at.”