Seventeen
Micah
I'd just discovered something surprising.
Despite his visible ease and relaxed form, Ember was nervous, about this date, and about his place in this relationship.
None of it showed on his face or in his voice, but his thoughts were a different matter altogether.
He was being careful not to think of where we were headed, other than in terms of street names and landmarks that I had no hope of recognizing, and I realized he knew I might be listening to his thoughts.
He knew, and he didn't care. He knew, and he was letting me hear his worries, his fears.
Was it intentional? Had he done it to show me I wasn't alone? Or did he just not mind me peeking into his head?
Before I could come to a conclusion, we arrived at our destination.
I looked out as Ember stopped the car, then realized we were in an underground parking lot.
If I wasn't with a dragon— and if Ember wasn't our mate—I'd be worried about where he was taking us. Instead, I was just curious, but not more than Cam, who was practically bouncing on his toes as he looked around for a clue.
Ember smiled when he saw his visible excitement, and then gave me a similar smile, even though I was just standing there. He seemed to be making an extra effort to make me feel appreciated, and I wondered if Cam had told him to.
Had Cam told him I hadn't really wanted to meet him yet? Or that I was unsure if he'd want me? The thought made me feel ashamed, and I glanced away from him, twisting the ruffles on my dress for something to do.
"It's this way," Ember said, and Cam slid his hand in mine, giving it a light squeeze. I glanced over at him, and he gave me a soft smile, as if he could sense the direction my thoughts had taken and wanted to pull me away from there.
Returning his smile, I held on tight to his hand as we followed Ember up a set of stairs and into a reception area of sorts.
The sound of arcade-like pings and music seeped out of an open doorway, and Cam raised a brow at me, almost vibrating with excitement.
Ember turned to face us, and for once his nerves were visible on his face.
"I booked us for a game of paintball because I thought you'd enjoy it, but if it doesn't sound enjoyable, we can do something else." Ember gazed at me for a moment, his eyes scanning me from head to toe. "Oh. Would you be able to play in that outfit? Maybe this was a bad idea."
I knew what Cam would say before he opened his mouth, and not because I could read his mind, but simply because I knew him so well.
"Are you kidding? It sounds Amazing! Right? And Micah can play too—don't worry. He's a pro at being active in all kinds of outfits." Cam glanced at me, and I nodded quickly, wanting to take away the worried look on Ember's face.
While I wasn't as excited about the idea as Cam, paintball was fun. I used to go with Aeron and Niall a lot when I was younger, and I'd always enjoyed those outings.
"I'm glad," Ember said, sounding relieved.
As he walked over to the receptionist to get the details sorted and find out where the game was, I eyed his form, taking this moment to get my fill.
The navy blue sweater he wore clung to his body in all the right places, showing off his perfect body. He had muscular arms and thick thighs, but he was also soft in all the right places. Cuddly.
I imagined curling up on the couch with him, with Cam on his other side, the three of us having a lazy day or watching a movie together. The scene filled me with warmth, and I blinked it away as Ember walked back to us, his firm thighs flexing under his light jeans.
"Okay, so we're in room three around the corner, and we'll be playing against a team of five," Ember said, and Cam grinned.
"Awesome! Let's go!"
Cam's enthusiasm was infectious, and by the time we arrived in the prep area where we'd get our protective vests and paintball guns, I was excited about the game too. It'd been a while since I was in a good paintball match.
Ember was still worried about my outfit, so I was quick to assure him. I had years of practice dealing with Cam's shenanigans while wearing all kinds of clothes, and now I could be active in a dress as easily as I could in shorts and a t-shirt.
The other team was made up of five college-age guys, all humans, and I doubted the game would last for too long. Cam was competitive to a fault—though never with me, thankfully—and I knew he was going to wipe the floor with these humans. I was curious to see how Ember would play. Would he go on the offensive like Cam, or be on the defensive like me? A bit of both?
The game started, and we hurried to find a hiding spot behind a bale of hay. The room was set up as a farmland of some sorts, with cardboard cows and horses scattered among the stacks of hay, wooden barns, and scarecrows.
Fuck, this is fun! Cam shouted in my head, making me wince. Cam struggled with volume control, both inside and outside his head, and it could drive me up the walls most of the time, but right then it just made me chuckle.
Cam raced around the stacks, peeking out every few moments and jumping back when a paintball hit right where he'd been a moment before. The attack had begun.
I wasn't sure how long we played for, but Cam went down after taking out three of the other team's players, and when he got shot, he put up an Oscar-worthy performance as he demanded Ember and I avenge him.
Ember took out the next one, and then jumped in front of me when the last guy shot at me, even though I'd been ready for it. I retaliated, getting the guy right in the chest, and somehow, I won. Even though I'd only used my gun once.
"Yes! I knew you could do it!" Cam cheered as he pulled me into a hug, then smacked a kiss on my lips before jumping over to hug Ember, though he didn't kiss him. Yet.
"I only won because you took out most of them," I pointed out, and he waved me off. "And because Ember decided to play martyr."
My eyes widened as I realized what I'd said, and I snuck a glance at Ember, worried he felt insulted.
Instead, Ember broke into loud, booming laughter that had people glancing over in curiosity. He had the kind of laugh that made people smile, and I felt myself relax as the warm sound washed over me.
"I apologize about that, Micah. It seems you make me feel rather protective of you, and I might've gone a bit overboard with it," he confessed, and something warm and fluttery twisted in my belly as I met his blue eyes.
"It's okay." The words were breathy and barely audible, and I could feel Cam's glee in my mind, which made my cheeks heat. He was enjoying this way too much.
Ember
Paintball had been a success, despite my martyr actions, and I was glad. Micah seemed to be relaxing in my company a little, and I hoped I'd get to see more of the snark I'd glimpsed.
"I thought we could get dinner next." I held the door open for them at my car, before sliding into the driver's seat.
"That sounds good. I'm hungry," Cam said, and Micah snorted.
"When aren't you hungry?"
"True," Cam agreed easily, and I smiled at their back and forth.
The more I got to know them, the more I liked them.
"That makes sense. Dragons use a lot of energy, after all." I drove out of the parking space and joined the evening traffic as Micah hummed.
"Nah, Cam was like that even before he became a dragon."
I shot a glance at them, surprised.
"Wait. I thought you were a born dragon, Cam."
"Nah. DD—I mean, Raiden—is my stepdad. He turned me and Dad into dragons after he mated my dad."
I was surprised I hadn't realized it before, but then again, it wasn't really something that you could notice without knowing all the facts.
"That's interesting. You seem to have a surprisingly good grasp of your magic," I said, then hoped it sounded like the compliment I'd meant it as.
"I've had a lot of practice," Cam said in a slightly subdued voice, then shared a glance with Micah. Something passed between them, something I wasn't privy to, and I turned my attention back to the road.
If it was something they felt comfortable to share, they would. And if not, then it was none of my business anyway.
The drive to the restaurant wasn't long, and Cam peppered me with questions the whole way, questions I tried to answer to the best of my abilities.
I told them I had a bunch of businesses, but none that needed my presence day to day. That seemed to make Cam happy, probably because he was already ready to move me into their house.
He also wanted to know my age, which I hesitated about before answering.
"Oooh, that's perfect!" Cam exclaimed when I told him I was somewhere in the 800-year range, and I raised a brow at him in the mirror.
Micah answered my unspoken question, humor clear in his voice. "Cam wants to see if Raiden and William will be bothered by the age gap and if they'll say anything about it."
I'd sensed Raiden was quite old, so I supposed that made sense. Cam seemed like the type of person who was always looking for opportunities to cause mischief.
Micah snorted, and then his eyes widened at me through the mirror as Cam asked him what was so funny.
Before he could panic, I answered. "I was just thinking that you're the type of person who enjoys causing mischief wherever you go."
Cam grinned, not at all offended by my conclusion. "That sounds about right. What's the point of life if you don't make the most of it?"
Surprised by the astute observation, I realized there was more to Cam than met the eye.
Reaching our destination, I parked the car in my reserved parking spot before getting out and opening their doors. Neither of them attempted to exit on their own this time, and I was glad. I enjoyed doing things for them, and it was my way of showing them my care.
While the restaurant was a low-key place, a simple building with some wooden edges and a glowing sign that proclaimed its name, Home , there was still a guard outside because you could never be too safe.
The guard, a wonderful, kind man named Fred, nodded at me as we passed him, and I smiled back before holding the door open for my mates.
Their eyes roamed around the place as they stepped inside, and I followed their gazes, trying to see the place through their eyes.
While it was a fancy place, it wasn't designed like most restaurants.
I'd dreamed this place up in a moment of homesickness—homesickness for a home I'd never had, at that—and it was my best creation to date.
"Wow. This is wonderful," Micah said, and my heart skipped a beat. His eyes snapped to mine. "Wait. It's yours?"
Now Cam was looking at me too, and I felt pride fill my chest at the look of admiration on both their faces.
"Yes, it's one of my businesses. Maybe my favorite one," I added with a wry smile.
Instead of tables and benches or chairs like most restaurants, the floor of Home was split into various nooks with couches, coffee tables, and even TVs in some of the corner areas with Bluetooth headphones available for anyone who wanted to watch something while having their meals.
The restaurant was close to a university, and my aim had been to offer students and anyone else away from home a taste of familiarity, of home.
The menu was full of simple foods, things your parents would cook for you. There were special items too, things like soup for when you're sick, or pies and other sweets. I'd made sure to only hire chefs who'd spent a lot of time cooking at home and knew the difference between restaurant food and home meals.
The hostess led us to a private nook behind a half-wall partition, with a big couch, a coffee table, and a thick, soft rug underneath.
Micah took a seat on the couch while Cam settled on the rug with his legs crossed. I took the other side of the couch and watched as their eyes roamed around the place.
"It feels so cozy. I love it," Micah murmured, and I smiled. I'd hoped he would like this place, since the paintball had been more Cam's style, and I was glad I'd gotten it right.
This date was going better than I'd hoped for, and I was so very glad for it.