Chapter Six
Viktor
The moment I saw the little table in the back corner with a man in front of a barrel, I knew I needed to check it out.
I have so many questions. Why do they have a pickle man here?
Why is he dressed as a king, complete with a crown?
Why is he tucked back in the corner when he should be proudly displayed right when we walk in?
I take Duncan’s hand in my own, leading him in the direction of the Pickle King. A surge of tingles goes through me at the touch. I feel warm and floaty holding his hand. It’s nice. Really nice.
It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve allowed myself to connect with another person.
I’ve closed myself off. I needed to protect myself with all these changes.
How the fuck am I supposed to explain what’s going on with some random human?
How could I explain away the errant magic that surges when I’m coming?
Or the fact that my ass is wet when I get turned on?
No, it was easier just to hide this part of myself away.
Things feel different now.
I feel my chest cracking open when I’m around Duncan. He already knows about the paranormal world so I won’t have to hide from him. I have no idea what he’s thinking or how he feels but there’s this sensation in the pit of my gut, something that tells me he’s feeling things just the same way I am.
We walk over to the Pickle King, hand in hand. I can’t get the smile off my face. This is so wonderfully whimsical!
“Greetings,” the Pickle King says, giving us a deep bow. His eyes keep flashing over towards the DJ. That’s interesting. “If you mind not, I must say, you are a dashing couple.”
Duncan sputters and despite not being able to see his cheeks, I can almost guarantee they’re stained red with a blush. Adorable.
“Thank you,” I say with a grin. “I saw you from across the room and I had to come see you.” Then I cringe. “That sounds like a terrible pick up line.”
That startles a chuckle from Duncan. “We don’t need a third.”
Now I’m giggling as well, shoving my shoulder against Duncan’s.
“A pity!” Pickle King says, letting his voice be tinged with exaggerated wistfulness. “May I interest you in the finest of pickles?”
“Yes, please! One for each of us, please!”
“Your wish is my command,” he says, picking up a pair of tongs.
He snaps them a few times, testing it out.
He reaches forward, like he’s going to snap at Duncan’s nose before pulling it away and shaking his head at himself.
He’s so weird in the most wonderful way.
“Sorry, they have a bit of a mind of their own.”
Duncan’s eyes are wide as he watches this silly little display. I get the feeling that despite him being an artist, he doesn’t have a lot of whimsy in his life. I’m struck with how much I want to be the one to change that. Would he like that? Would he like a little more silly in his life?
“Oh, we got a feisty one,” the Pickle King murmurs, the hand inside the barrel moving around in a circle like something is fighting him. “Gotcha!” Then he’s pulling a pickle out triumphantly.
“I want the feisty one!”
The Pickle King looks at me with a raised brow. “I’m not sure you’re the one who needs a bit of feistiness in their life.”
I stick out my bottom lip but nod. “Fine. Duncan can have the feisty pickle,” I say with a giggle.
“Don’t make it sound so dirty,” he says, chuckling along with me.
“There’s nothing dirty about a feisty pickle!” The Pickle King declares, putting the pickle in a little paper cup and handing it over to Duncan.
“Now for you. I need to find the right pickle. Let’s see, let’s see.” His eyes go up and down Duncan’s body. “I’m sure you could help the lad with that, couldn’t you?”
“I.. I’m… sorry, what?” Duncan sputters out, his ears turning a lovely shade of red. I cover my mouth as I giggle, nodding along to the Pickle King.
“Go on, Duncan. Help the man select a pickle for me.”
Duncan covers his face with the hand not holding his pickle and gods, that’s the funniest sentence ever! He looks adorable like this.
When I was still learning about the whole second gender thing, I had so many questions for my friends.
They might all be omegas but they had plenty to say about alphas and betas.
I wrongly made the assumption that omegas were all docile and submissives while alphas were supposed to be these macho men who took charge.
Looking back, it was dumb to assume that.
I’m certainly not docile and I’ve never been submissive inside or outside the bedroom.
Duncan is an alpha, yet I have the desire to protect him. I want to take care of him. Sure, I also want to tease him mercilessly but at the same time, all of these feelings are rising up inside of me that are hard to ignore.
I like him.
I like that he’s flustered so easily. I like that he clings to my hand. I like that he’s pushing through his worries in order to talk to me. I like that he took the time to talk to that woman about suits. I like that he came back and found me.
I like Duncan.
“What about that one?”
“Oh, an excellent selection! One of my finest,” the Pickle King says, fishing out the pickle that Duncan selected. This one has an extra long stem on it. The Pickle King looks at the pickle, then over at Duncan, then back at the pickle. “It sure is excited to be picked.”
We both burst out laughing.
“Hopefully the pickle won’t be the only excited one tonight,” he says with a wink, handing me the pickle.
“Thank you so much for our pickles, Your Majesty.”
“It is my honor and privilege,” he says, taking another deep bow. From the corner of my eye, I see Duncan slide some money into the tip jar. Seeing that makes my belly flutter with affection.
We find a clear spot against a wall, leaning against it as we eat our pickles. What a silly moment in the middle of such a fancy event. Now that our giggles have faded, we lean against each other, just people watching quietly. It feels nice to share this with Duncan.
“This is really nice,” Duncan says, looking over at me, mirroring my exact thoughts. I bump our shoulders together and then stay there, leaning against him.
“Sharing a pickle?”
“No,” he says with a snort. “Just people watching with you. I’m not really good at being around people. I do it, especially with my mom and dad, but it’s not something I’ve ever enjoyed. With you, it feels different.”
My heart feels like it’s going into overdrive. I turn towards him, taking in his side profile.
“Sorry, if that’s weird to admit,” Duncan quickly adds.
With my free hand, I reach over and squeeze his biceps. “It’s not weird. Not even a little bit. I was just thinking the same thing.”
“You were?”
“Yes. I like you, Duncan. I like you a lot already.”
“Oh,” he breathes out. Then his face breaks into a smile, one that leaves my toes curling in my Converse. “I like you too. I’m really glad I came.”
“Me too.” The DJ plays a new song and a few people finally get up and start dancing. I smile as I watch them.
“Hey, Viktor?”
I kick off the wall and turn so I can fully face Duncan. “Yes?”
“Would you umm, would you like to dance with me?” Duncan asks as the music comes to a finish, a new song beginning to play. This one is somber and soft. A love song meant for slow dancing.
I take the paper cup from him and toss our trash into the can.
“I would be delighted,” I say with a little bow, weirdly proud of him for putting himself out there and asking me.
I hold out my hand for him, my belly a mixture of anticipation and excitement.
He takes it with a grin and leads me to the dance floor.