Chapter 3 #2
Her hands move jerkily. ‘They think I’ll get into a situation I can’t handle if I’m unsupervised. It doesn’t matter to them that I’m not fourteen anymore. They still don’t trust me just because of one stupid mistake.’
‘We can train you instead,’ Milo offers immediately. ‘There’s still enough time, and we can make sure you practice everything you need to be able to do.’
I hide my wince. I’d happily train my sister if I was in any shape to do so, but I’d be more of a hindrance than a help at this point.
She grimaces. ‘I really can’t sneak away often enough. I only managed tonight because Dad’s away on business.’
‘Mum decided not to come?’ I ask, my shoulders tense.
Zara and Milo keep saying Mum wants to see me, but I haven’t had a single message or phone call, despite Milo assuring me he’s given her my new number. She’s certainly not made the effort to visit.
‘Carys’ triplets started hatching this afternoon,’ Zara signs carefully, biting her lower lip.
Mum is the midwife for our dragon flight. Of course she’d have to be there for a hatching. That doesn’t alleviate the ache in my chest, though.
‘What about getting someone from the flight to train you?’ Milo signs, distracting me from dwelling on Mum’s lack of contact.
Zara shakes her head. ‘I’ve already asked around, but no one is willing to go against Dad’s wishes.’
Maybe the fact that none of the flight will answer my texts isn’t actually a loss, if they won’t even help a young dragon achieve an important milestone. ‘We’ll figure something out.’
She nods, although I don’t think she believes me. Why would she? I’ve been absent from her life for so long.
Milo changes the subject, and eventually we have her laughing at the monotony of Milo’s accountancy work—which he enjoys, the nerd—and the funniest stories from my time in Wargate.
I embellish them because let’s be real, there wasn’t a lot of fun happening in there, but it works to make her smile reach her eyes.
The three of us are just heading out to fly her back when the tiger shifter I spent half the day sneaking glances at appears from the stairwell, shopping bags in both hands. He’s got a warm coat and well-worn jeans on now, and he smiles as soon as he sees me.
‘I’ll catch up,’ I quickly sign to my siblings. I don’t want to miss this opportunity to get his number.
I begin typing a rapid message on my phone, only for Milo to touch my arm.
‘I’ll fly Zara back,’ he signs, a twinkle in his eye.
I frown, because I don’t want to miss out on time with my sister, but she grins.
‘Go flirt,’ she signs, wiggling her eyebrows. ‘I’ll sneak away again as soon as I can.’
My neighbour unlocks his door, shopping bags now in one hand, and gives me a friendly wave before going in and closing the door behind him.
Fuck it. My dry spell has been insanely long, and the tiger shifter smells like the best kind of temptation. The least I can do is find out if he’s single and interested.
‘Fine, but message me tomorrow after netball practice.’ I press a kiss to her forehead.
‘I will.’ She waves goodbye and heads off with Milo.
I delete most of what I typed on the Notes app and keep it simple instead, then knock on the tiger’s door.
He opens it a few moments later, and his sensuous lips quirk when he sees me. I show him the message on my phone.
Hi. I’m Bryn.
‘Hi, I’m D-H-I-R-E-N.’ His fingers move haltingly.
Did he learn that after work? I don’t want to be impressed by that, but considering how few of my dragon flight ever bothered to learn any signs at all, I can’t help grinning at him.
‘Bryn,’ I fingerspell, then show him my sign name.
‘Do you want to come in, Bryn?’ He uses my sign name and steps to the side, shrugging off his coat and hanging it on a hook by the door.
Huh, so either he looked up that phrase as well, or he knows more BSL than I gave him credit for. Either way, I absolutely want to spend more time with him, so I step inside and take off my trainers, placing them neatly next to his work boots, then follow him into the kitchen-living room.
His flat is the mirror image of ours, with furniture laid out in a similar way because in a space this small, there aren’t many options.
But where our stuff is all dark colours—walls, furniture, curtains—his is light, from the ash wood table to the white sofa and sheer curtains.
There are splashes of colour from the soft tiger toy on the coffee table to the forest green cushions and purple velvet throw on the sofa, as well as in several framed photographs on the wall behind.
A closer look shows the pictures are all of different street art.
He waves to get my attention. ‘Drink?’
‘Beer, if you have it.’
His shopping is on the counter, only partially unpacked, a single cupboard left open like he was in the middle of putting things away.
The entire flat smells like him, but there’s a distinct curry aroma as well.
My dragon sits up and takes notice, whether because we want to devour Dhiren or his dinner, I’m not sure.
Both, probably, even though I’m still full of lasagne.
Dhiren pops the cap off a bottle of Lone Howl beer and pours himself a glass of red wine. He puts both on the coffee table, then points to the sofa.
‘Have a seat. I just need to put the food away. One minute.’
He’s keeping to simple sentences so far, but he definitely knows more than the basics. I sit down as instructed, more than happy to lean back and drink my beer while I watch him move around his kitchen.
It’s not long before he joins me and sits with one leg curled under him so he can face me, a disappointingly healthy distance between us. ‘So you live with your brother? Cousin?’ he asks.
I put my half-empty beer on the coffee table. ‘Brother. Milo.’ It’s no surprise he guessed. We really do look alike. ‘My sister came for dinner. Zara.’
I both fingerspell and show him their sign names. Then he surprises me by reaching out and lightly touching my hand, looking at my knuckles where my sister’s name is tattooed. I show him the other hand, where I have Milo’s name inked.
I’d happily let him touch me anywhere he likes, but unfortunately he lets go and reaches for his wine glass.
‘When did you learn BSL?’ I ask.
After a delicate sip, he places his glass back down. ‘My ex-girlfriend is Deaf. I took classes. I’m a bit out of practice. Sorry.’
Ah, that does explain his hesitant movements but decent vocabulary. More importantly, does this mean he’s straight? Or am I still in with a chance?
Before I can figure out how to ask that in some vaguely subtle way, he changes the subject. ‘How long have you worked there?’
‘Two weeks.’
He nods like he expected that answer, which makes sense. My scent will have been around the hallway outside for that long.
‘So is Aire always that much of a bitch to you?’ He’s got a cute little frown on his face, either from trying to remember the signs—a couple of which he got slightly wrong—or because he’s annoyed by her behaviour on my behalf.
I’m not sure which it is, but I do know that I’d rather talk about other things. Him, me, how good we could be together; I’m not picky. The fae are bottom of my list to ever be a topic of conversation.
I shrug. ‘Sometimes. Most fae don’t like me.’
‘Why?’ He unbuttons the cuffs of his white shirt and proceeds to neatly fold the sleeves to just above his elbows. His forearms have the same lithe strength as the rest of him, with just the right amount of black hair to be sexy.
What was the question again?
I give myself a mental shake. I won’t stand any chance of impressing him enough to date me if I don’t pay at least as much attention to his words as his body.
Would I rather not tell him why the majority of fae hate me?
Obviously. I’d rather not talk about the lowest point in my life, the reason I lost everything.
But there’s something about this tiger that makes me want to be open with him.
Fingers crossed this gets it out of the way and doesn’t screw up my chances.
‘I served three years for putting Lance in a coma.’