Chapter 8
EIGHT
Penny
What are you supposed to bring to a tabletop game night? I spent a good three hours on Google, watching every single video I could find about etiquette and falling down multiple rabbit holes. Dammit, Shae.
None of the videos or comments could come to a consensus. Snacks? Drinks? Baked goods? So, I brought a mixture. Three layers of plastic food containers filled with cookies, some savory trail mix concoction I found on Pinterest with a D&D theme and some bite-sized meats and cheeses.
Oh gods, what if someone is vegan? Asher would have said something.
Wouldn’t he? Surely he would have given me a list of potential food allergies, right?
If he assumed I would bring food. Now I’m overthinking everything and ready to limp back across the street to put these containers into our fridge.
The door swings open, and his smile falls immediately, causing my heart to lurch forward.
“Penny.” He grabs the leaning tower of snacks out of my hands and moves out of the way, “You were supposed to tell me when you were coming. I didn’t want you waiting here with your bad ankle.”
“It’s really fine. Only a sprain.” I raise my pant leg in a manner which would be considered scandalous in the early 1900s to show the stretchy brace peeking out from under my sock.
It’s been a few days since we went ice skating, and the brace is a precaution because of my weak ankles, it’s still sweet he’s so concerned.
I’m sure I’ll be brace-free and ready to dance by Christmas Eve.
Though I’m not sure I’ll ever recover from the kiss following my injury and the slight spectacle in between.
I’m sure there were a few phones trained on Asher as he rushed across the ice, carrying me like I weighed no more than a sack of potatoes.
No one has ever done that for me. I’m a middle child, so I was told to stand up and dust myself off. Never did I expect Prince Charming to rush to my side.
The Prince Charming in question raises a brow, smirking, “Come in. I’ll put this up and introduce you to everyone.”
Oh, right. Everyone.
Something about this feels ominous. What if everyone hates me? What if I have suddenly become so abhorrent, a social outcast, and these people who are incredibly important to Asher decide I am not worthy to breathe his air?
Asher disappears into the house, I close the door behind me and follow after him, my high-top Converse squeaking against the polished wood flooring and reminding me how different we are.
This is where he comes from. Our family is comfortable. My father worked hard to make sure my siblings and I grew up wanting nothing, but we aren’t ‘townhouse in the middle of the city’ comfortable.
The dining room table comes into view. Tonight, it has been transformed from what I assume is its standard state to a small forested wonderland.
Spread out across the wooden surface are three different interconnecting maps, generic to the point I can’t place any of the landmarks, but still I feel I could walk these paths and find adventure. I kind of want to.
“Penny, this is Clark, Elsie and her girlfriend Summer.” Asher says with a sweeping gesture across the table. “This is Penny.”
I recognize Clark from Dragon’s Lair, it’s hard to miss his black hair and thick black frames that make him look a little like Clark Kent.
Beside him is Elsie, who seems to be my age with bright green hair, and sitting next to her is Summer, who resembles her namesake in her light flower-print dress.
“You work at that bookstore downtown, Plot Twist, right?” Clark asks, lifting his soda in my direction.
“Yeah, how did you know?” I ask.
“It was just a hunch.” He lowers his voice and nudges Elsie, “You owe me twenty bucks.”
Elsie shushes him and gives me a warm smile, “We’re so happy you could join us tonight.”
“Have you played Dungeon Raider before?” Summer asks.
“Oh,” I turn and look for Asher, but he’s gone to put away my snack offerings, “no, I haven’t.” I hold up my hands, “I’m really just here to observe and cheer from the sidelines.”
“No, you’re playing.” Asher calls out from the other room, he adds, “If you want, I mean.”
The assertive tone sends a bit of a spark down my spine, “Don’t I need a character?”
Clark sets out a stack of cards, “None of us have characters. These are mini dungeon runs using a randomized deck. It’s very beginner-friendly. I’m sure my grandfather could figure it out.”
Asher’s hand goes to the small of my back, “We’ll be gentle.”
“And you’re playing too?” I ask.
“Of course, I’m running things.” He smirks.
The game is a bit like Clue in the way we’re dealt three cards consisting of a class, a background and an artifact.
It’s meant to offer distinct character combinations without intentionally “stacking” the party.
The random aspect of it means we could end up weak or overpowered, ensuring each playthrough is unique.
I stare down at my three cards. A half-demon druid with the Amulet of Luck, which offers me two extra points to my roll once every long rest.
“Interesting.” Elsie eyes my cards, then glances at Asher.
“Is it a bad combination?” I ask.
“Asher’s main character is a half-demon druid,” Clark says, picking at his selection.
Asher keeps his head down, and I blush, wanting to read too much into the soft smile playing at his lips as he shuffles the monster encounter deck.
“So, is this what the amulet looks like?” I ask, holding up my card.
“That’s entirely up to you.” He glances up at me and leans against the table, “What do you want it to look like?”
For some reason, my thoughts linger on the necklace in the store window the day Asher rescued me. It seems oddly lucky in hindsight. If I hadn’t stopped, my day might have ended up differently.
“The pendant resembles a cherry blossom with pink gemstones for the petals.” I tilt my head, “With a thin gold chain.”
He gives me a nod of approval and a sense of pride warms my chest.
The next four hours fly by, between Clark’s accent, which can’t decide if it’s British or Australian, Elsie’s blatant flirting with Summer while arguing like an old married couple and Asher’s extra attention.
I decided on the name Thistle for my half-demon druid. It definitely wasn’t me projecting by choosing the cringe-y persona I adopted for my cottagecore phase in high school.
We stopped briefly so Asher could take care of Mango, then we played another game where I “rolled” a half-orc hunter named Azure with a cloak of invisibility, thanks to Clark trading me under the table.
Things weren’t ever awkward, aside from the first few moments. I truly felt like we were falling into step with each other, like friends who had only been apart.
It was easy, like with Shae.
“Remember, The Fairy Market happens every third Tuesday of the month.” Elsie says, typing her contact information into my phone and handing it back to me. “There’s a vendor there with amazing dice. Better than the ones at the Dragon’s Lair. Sorry, boss.”
Beside me, Asher waves it off, his hand resting at the small of my back and setting me alight.
“I can’t wait. It sounds like a lot of fun.” I say, trying to keep my cool.
“You’re sure you don’t wanna come with us ? They have waffles—oh, and breakfast burritos.” Clark stuffs his hands in his pockets and gives us a pleading nod towards the street.
“Nope.” Elsie grabs his shoulders and directs him further onto the sidewalk. “Leave them alone.”
“It was so nice to meet you,” I smile and then watch them walk into the night, Asher closes the door behind him.
“I hope you know I’m buying your first set of dice,” he says, locking the deadbolt.
“Is this some sort of tradition I’m unaware of?”
I walk further into the townhouse, towards the faint jingling in the living room.
“No, I guess it’s important to me. I want to be your first.”
My mouth goes dry as Mango saunters up, the bell around his neck tinkling while he brushes against my legs.
“If it isn’t the man, the myth, the sweet little guy.” I joke, leaning down and running my hand along Mango’s fur. Scratching under his chin as he rears up to meet my fingertips.
“He doesn’t—“ Asher huffs out a laugh as I scoop the orange tabby into my arms and rub my face against his cheek, “—like to be held.”
“Oh,” I blanch, glancing over my shoulder.
The look in his eyes rivals the one he gave me at the ice rink, after he bridal-carried me across the ice to the bleachers. The look that said, “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”
I want to kiss him again. I want to—
My skin flashes hot with a familiar sensation and has me gently placing Mango back on the floor to keep from doubling over in discomfort.
Oh, no. No, no, no. This isn’t supposed to happen for a few more months.
I wrap my arms around my middle, but it fails to soothes the dull ache between my legs growing increasingly insistent.
Darn, my heat couldn’t have come at a worse time. Usually, I’m able to plan with Shae and coordinate so she’ll be out of the house and away from my display, but tonight she’s there with her boyfriend.
“Penny?” Asher’s voice is laced with a kaleidoscope of emotions. Worry above all else, but I sense a thrum of want mixed in. But it could be my hormones pushing for the scenario.
I lift my head to find two bright gold slitted eyes staring at me.
Oh fuck, excuse my French. He is gorgeous. His gold-scaled brows arch with concern as his chest heaves, his button-down is barely able to restrain his tensing muscles.
“Are you okay?”
“Are you okay?” I parrot back.
Asher has fully shifted, his features remain intact, but now he’s covered in bright scales which change from a dull bronze to gold under the warm lights above. I can’t imagine what he’d look like in the sun. Surely, a beautiful sight to behold.
His eyes widen as he catches a reflection of himself, lifting his hands to examine his dark black claws to match the two black horns curving back from above his brow bone.
I’m not sure if the feature is part of his dragon form or a remnant of his demonic lineage showing through. They don’t deter me from wanting to reach out and touch them.
Neither do his scales. The urge to reach out and brush my fingertips along the scales on his forearm, to explore whatever is hidden under his shirt, causes my hands to tremble.
“Shit,” Asher hisses out, “I’m sorry. I promise I won’t hurt you.”
“Why not?” I ask, thinking the better of it and shaking my head, “I mean, why do you say that?”
“You aren’t afraid of me?” He tilts his head, “You’re shaking.”
Oh, Asher, if you only knew the depraved thoughts tumbling around my brain.
I would do anything to feel the full texture of those scales roaming all over my body.
I wanna feel how they slide and snag in all the right places, not to mention I want to know if all the rumors are true and dragons have —
“Penny?”
“What? Oh, no,” I laugh, “I’m shaking because I’m embarrassed.” My hands instinctively tangle with the hem of my shirt, "I started my heat, and it’s a little uncomfortable.” Not to mention it’s going to hurt like hell if I don’t find some release in the next hour.
He draws his brows towards his forehead, his tongue darting out and wetting his lips.
“I could help you.”