Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
EMBER
Seraphina drums her chipped black nails against the steering wheel, humming along badly to KPop Demon Hunters.
“You know,” she says at last, tossing her black hair over her shoulder, “you don’t look like someone on their way to Sunday lunch. You look like someone on their way to a date.”
Heat prickles my cheeks as I fiddle with the hem of my knee-length green dress. “It’s not a date. It’s family dinner.”
“Uh-huh.” She smirks, pulling onto the main road. “With your brother. And your fake boyfriend. Totally normal. Definitely not date vibes.”
I groan, sinking lower in my seat. “Don’t call him that.”
“Why not? He’s hot. Even my nan said so before she—” Her voice cracks, just slightly, before she clears her throat and cranks the music louder.
“Your nan met him? I didn’t think he’d been here that long.”
“He was married to Elise, wasn’t he? He came to visit Harold and May a couple of times a year. Nan knew him then. She’s friends with them.” She sighs. “Well. She was.”
My chest tightens. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know it’s been hard for you lately.”
She shrugs. “Anyway, back to the hot fireman. I know you haven’t got all dressed up for your brother.”
“Seraphina!” I swat her arm. “He’s got a daughter. And he’s younger than me.”
“So?” She shrugs again, eyes on the road. “Age is just a number.” A cheeky smile ghosts her lips, like she’s sitting on a secret.
“Enough about me. Who have you got dressed up for?” I raise an eyebrow, gazing over her black skater dress and purple tights.
“What? I always dress like this.” Her knuckles whiten on the wheel, the mood ring on her finger flashing amber.
“Have you heard from my nephew?” I hate how he ended things with her when he left for college, right before her nan passed.
“No, I’m sure he’s doing fine if his Instagram profile’s anything to go by.”
“You deserve someone who’ll look after you, Seraphina. Not just… keep you around until they’re bored.”
Her throat bobs. She blinks quickly, then smirks again to cover it. “Well, maybe you should take your own advice. Because Mr. Dragon Fire looks like he’d set himself alight for you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
She gives me a sly look. “Then why are you wearing mascara on a Sunday? You never even wear makeup for work.”
I groan and cover my face with my hands as she cackles, swerving slightly towards Flint’s driveway. “Is it too much?” The bees in my stomach buzz harder, chaos turning to nausea.
“I’m just teasing. You look fine. Great even. He won’t be able to keep his eyes off you.” She grabs her bag from the back seat and opens the car door.
I step out onto Flint’s driveway and look up at his home. It’s much larger than mine, and I wonder if he’s as lonely as I am now his son’s at college and he’s living here alone with not even so much as a cat to keep him company.
My stomach knots tighter with every step up Flint’s drive. I half expect Drake’s truck to be parked outside, black steel and chrome impossible to miss.
But other than Flint’s car, the drive is empty. No dragon yet.
A mix of relief and disappointment washes over me.
Inside, the familiar scent wraps around me—roast beef, garlic, herbs. Comfort food, the kind that lingers in your clothes and makes you want to curl up with a nap afterwards. “Smells good,” I call, shrugging off my coat.
Flint’s in the kitchen, sleeves rolled to his elbows, dark jeans and a navy button-down that fits just a little too well. Casual, but smart, like I’m not the only one who's made an effort. His salt-and-pepper beard is trimmed, his hair damp as though he showered just before we arrived.
“Hey,” he says, glancing up with a grin. “You’re early.”
“Seraphina drove,” I say. “She couldn’t wait to get here for some reason.” I turn back to Sera with a quirk of my lips, still wondering what her little secret is.
“Just don’t like being late, that’s all,” Seraphina chirps, already hopping onto a stool at the counter. Her purple tights cross at the ankles as she sets her bag down.
“Drink?” Flint asks her, grabbing two glasses. His voice softens in a way I haven’t heard in years—not since before his divorce.
“Sure,” she says, her grin cheeky. “Got any more of that cider?”
He smirks, pours her a Coke, and pushes it across the counter. “You’re never drinking again. Not until you’re twenty-one at least.” Their eyes meet, something sparking in the air, and suddenly I feel like an intruder in my own brother’s kitchen.
I clear my throat, desperate to cut the moment. “Need a hand with dinner?”
“You can set the table,” he says, pulling a pot from the oven.
I busy myself with plates and cutlery while Seraphina leans over the counter, chin in hand, watching Flint move about the kitchen as if she’s watching some kind of cooking show.
“So,” Flint says later, nudging me with his elbow as I line up the cutlery. “Dragon boy, huh? I’d never have put you two together in a million years.”
My cheeks heat. “It’s complicated. I teach his daughter. I shouldn’t really be dating him.”
Flint snorts. “Everyone in this town wants to see you happy, Em. Nobody’s going to care that you’re dating a student’s dad. It’s about time you let someone in again.”
I swallow hard, fiddling with a fork. “I could say the same about you.”
His eyes flick towards Seraphina. She’s still perched at the counter, laughing at something on her phone, unaware—or maybe not—that my brother just gave himself away.
But when I glance back, his jaw is already tight. “I’m too busy at work for relationships,” he mutters, turning back to the oven.
I smile faintly because I know a deflection when I hear one.
When Flint’s attention shifts back to me, his expression softens. “You know, Em… we’ve both been burned. I know what it’s like to be cautious.” A smile curves his lips. “As much as I enjoy grilling him at work, I kinda like the dragon boy.”
“Why do you all call him that, anyway?”
“Have you not seen his tattoo?” He chuckles as he slices the roast joint.
“Oh right. I’ve only seen the tail wrapped around his arm.”
He furrows his brow. “I thought you two were an item?”
“We’re taking things slow. He’s respectful.”
Flint quirks a brow. “Well, that’s good to know, but I thought from what I saw the other night—”
I put my hand over his mouth. “Let’s not talk about the other night.”
“What happened the other night?” Sera adds, looking up from her phone.
“Nothing,” we both say in unison, my voice a lot higher than Flint’s.
I sigh and lean against the counter. “I’m already the town’s laughingstock. I’m just scared this is going to end the same way.”
“Nobody’s laughing at you, Em.”
I stare at him with a knowing look. “I know everyone thinks I’m the crazy cat lady who can’t have kids, so I baby my cats.
Everyone knows Richard left me because he wanted a family.
It still hurts every time I have to teach his son, but I do it because that’s my job and it’s not his fault his dad’s a prick.
What if it happens again? What if Drake wants more than I can give?
I don’t think I could take another heartbreak or another cheater. ”
“I understand, but there’s a lot of ifs in that sentence. What if everything works out?”
I nod, a lump rising in my throat. “You came through your divorce with something good. At least you have your son.”
Seraphina cuts in with a huff, “Mason isn’t that good.” Her mouth snaps shut as if she never meant to voice her opinion out loud. “Sorry, Chief.”
He shoots her a sympathetic look. “It’s all right. You deserve better.” The way his eyes flicker, just for a second, it’s as if he wants to be the one who’s better for her.
The doorbell rings, slicing through the steam in the kitchen. I smooth my dress, suddenly hyper aware of the mascara on my lashes, my pulse sprinting like a trapped rabbit in a dragon’s cave.
He’s here.