Chapter 19
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Anime is very, very educational.
Alister
I probably shouldn’t still be smiling.
“You okay?” I ask my poor, overheated little female lead.
Swaying slightly in the kitchen, August tries to regain her senses and her breath while she sips some cold water and takes scheduled breaths. Whatever leaves her mouth in response to my question aren’t entirely words.
Carefully, I rest the backs of my fingers against her cheek. “Poor thing.”
She shivers, sending me a weak scowl coated in raging blush.
Her gaze darts to the ice pack I’m holding, otherwise known as what I’m using purely to cool my hands before my fingers become her ice pack.
She supplies me with more incoherent babble marked eventually by another wee whimper and a, “That’s so hot. ”
“Still hot?” I cup her pretty red cheek.
“Urusai,” she snaps, which technically means loud or noisy, but she’s clearly using it in a shut up capacity. Her eyes close, and she breathes deep, battling for logic.
I interrupt her journey, because I—unlike Ali—know very little about Japanese and will continue to be noisy if I feel like it. “I take it this is why you’re so keen on slow burn if an almost kiss puts you on the brink of passing out.”
“I was not prepared.”
“Clearly.”
She frees the air in her chest. “Were you actually going to kiss me?”
“If you’d said please?”
Her lip trembles before she pulls it between her teeth. Eyes off me, she nods.
“No.”
Her shoulders droop.
“I’d have made you work a little harder than that.”
She teeters. “R-really?”
“Of course.” I switch hands and cool her other cheek. “You deserve nothing but the best.”
Unwisely, she takes an unsteady step closer and peers up at me with dewy eyes. “You mean…at the very first inclination of consent…you wouldn’t pounce?”
Dipping, I kiss the bite mark on her neck. “Oh, August.” I smile against her skin and pull her into a hug, planting the icepack against her back and refusing to relent when her sharp intake leads to violent squirming. “I’d hope it’d be clear my feelings go deeper than that by now.”
Breath ragged, she chatters. “Clear? Yes. For why? I still can’t tell.”
Once she adjusts to the cold, she sinks against me, her water glass all that separates us. Eerie calm takes hold, and my eyes close. “You were talking about something interesting earlier,” I murmur. “I was wondering if, in all the haze, you’d reached an answer to your moral dilemma.”
Half lost to the late hour, she mumbles, “What moral dilemma?” as her eyes close.
“Would you still like me if I didn’t look like this?”
She snuggles. “Do you secretly have elf ears?”
“No.”
Hopeful little brown eyes peek up at me past her glasses. “Horns, maybe? Jagged wings?”
I sink, falling ever harder, every moment. “Sorry, dear. Nothing so fun.”
Her lip juts. “The beasts in Beauty and the Beast stories are often more terrifying than plain or unfortunate in their features, and the characters so rarely stay beastly at the end. Nevertheless, I do usually fall for them before they’re transformed and miss what they were after.”
That doesn’t bode the greatest if she’s gotten used to this blond hair.
“Why do you ask?” Her voice holds its mellow. “Are you worried I’m being swayed by the superficial, too?”
“If only it were that easy to sway you. How can I make you fall in love before the end of August, my darling lotus?” I kiss the crown of her head. “Another year without you as mine might kill me.”
“Have you already known me for at least a year?”
“What a thing to say.”
“Weddings take time to plan. Guests need time to adjust their schedules.”
“Ceremonies take time to plan. Marriage is far quicker than all that.”
“What if…” A smile lilts in her voice. “…we get married as slowly as possible? I suggest we move to a common law state and let time marry us.”
“Contrary to popular belief, a common law marriage isn’t established based on a rudimentary timeframe.
It requires the couple to present themselves as married in multiple official ways, and ultimately creates issues as the only true difference between a traditional marriage and a common law marriage is the absence of documentation, which can make several legal processes irritating. ”
August blinks at me.
I peer down at her. So pretty… Still so flushed… Pressed nice and close…
She says, “You… Did you look into common law because of me?”
“Yes. Obviously. I’ve been exploring my options where it concerns coercing you into an unbeknownst union for weeks.”
A laugh escapes her, and a hint of delirium skates into her eyes above the mad flush in her cheeks. “Any hope?”
“My lawyer strongly urged me against what he suggested might be considered grounds for legal action.”
“Your lawyer?” she blurts. “Are you actually well off? Or are you still joking?”
“Well, what is rich, really?”
Her lashes flutter, and she escapes me, leaving me to freeze alone with the ice pack. “Can we talk numbers for a second?”
“Numbers?”
“Do you make six figures?”
I abandon the ice pack on the counter behind me, cock a hip against it, and cross my arms. “Are you sure you want to have a conversation that may further complicate your do I like him for him concerns?”
“Yes.”
Very well then. I answer, “Closer to a low seven.”
Her eyes bulge. “Per year?”
“Yes.”
She whispers a soft curse. “Who in the world are you? And why in the world are you in my kitchen? On purpose?” Her eyes bounce, thoughts streaming, as she searches the air, the floor, the counters, our feet.
“You…wouldn’t need to rent. You didn’t… There wasn’t a mix up renting from Lynn at all.
This scheme goes that deep? And you’re all in on it, that completely? ”
I hum, inconclusive.
“You’re here…fully…because of…” Her lips part, and her gaze lifts. “Me?”
Holding steady, I say, “I love you, August.”
Every muscle in her winds as the blaze that falls over her skin leaves her tipping back against the fridge for support.
“I don’t…understand. Is this…amnesia?” August—fully convinced suddenly—grips her hair.
“Oh my goodness. I have amnesia. This is an amnesia plot. Are you…already my husband? I’ve just forgotten.
You’re trying to get me to remember by taking me to the courthouse, where we got married in a flurry of passion, because I’m impulsive and you’re…
” She waves a hand at me, erratic. “Are you…also impulsive?”
“Not usually.” Even though I am presently considering whether or not convincing her she’s right might result in us going through the entire marriage process. Wham, bam, mission accomplished. Yeah, let’s try that. I proceed, “But when the woman I love says want to get married, Dominic? I say yes.”
“Dominic.” Her brow furrows. “Right. I forgot.” Her frantic melts, and she regards me. “If this made sense, you wouldn’t be going by an alias. Scrap everything I just said.”
Darn. So close.
She sighs. “You were actually going to tell me I was right and that we should go to the courthouse to see if it would work, weren’t you?”
“August, if you’re going to say you want manipulation, I would appreciate it if you stop seeming affronted each time you’re almost manipulated.”
She balks, hand to heart. “I’m not affronted that you’re trying to manipulate me. I’m affronted that I keep figuring it out too fast. Can’t you….do it better?”
My brows rise. “My apologies. Should I target your self-esteem and insecurities? And would blatant gaslighting be acceptable?”
She perks. “The tactical abuse you’re suggesting would be a long-term arrangement, which is conducive to my slow burn desires. I accept.”
Of course she would. Pity calling her crazy wouldn’t result in anything other than a yes, and? Setting the matter aside, I say, “How are you feeling?”
“Still a little swimmy.” She nurses a few sips of water. “I have a stupid question.”
“Maybe I’ll have a stupid answer.”
“How hard do you think it would be to orchestrate a situation where I’m kidnapped and you have to rescue me like Usui does in that one episode?”
I cross my arms. “Misaki’s never kidnapped. Are you talking about the creeps that broke into the cafe? Because Usui didn’t really do any rescuing then.”
Her head shakes. “I’m talking about when she goes to the other school. ”
“The other school where the bad guy steals her clothes and pins her to the floor in a maid outfit?” My entire being revolts at the very image of August in such a situation. “Impossible.”
“Impossible?”
“People would die before they got so far with you.” I stretch my fingers. “Maybe don’t try to orchestrate that kind of situation. Ever. As stated previously, my lawyer is already concerned about lawsuits.”
She hums. “Right.” Her attention lowers. “One more stupid question…” She traces her finger across her weeping glass. “Did you mean it when you said you were tracking things about me in a spreadsheet?”
“That’s hardly a stupid question. Of course I am.”
A distant smile softens her features, and she pushes off the fridge. “Can we continue watching Maid-sama tomorrow night?”
Unease knots in the pit of my stomach. “Absolutely.”
“I think I’m going to lie down for a little bit and regulate.”
My jaw locks. “Please let me know if you need anything.”
Before she turns, she pauses, looks at me, and tilts her head. “Are you okay?”
I swallow. “Are we okay?”
An airy laugh escapes her. “Yes, we’re fine. I just need to process tonight.” Her finger lifts, and she touches her neck. “A vampire bit me. That’s a very big event in a young woman’s life. I have a lot to think about.”
I settle, and tension leaves. “It’s okay. I didn’t turn you.”
Her eyes roll. “Of course not. I’m a saint, so you can’t turn me without permission, but also you didn’t even break the skin. You might need to get your teeth sharpened.”
“Is that permission to break skin next time, little saint? Because last I knew, I also needed permission to drink.”
Turning, she cradles her glass to her chest and hums. “I wonder. Goodnight, Dominic.”
“Goodnight, sweet lotus. Until our next battle.”
With that, she disappears down the hallway, and I watch her go, feeling as though she’s taking my entire heart with her.
Whether she returns it or not, only time will tell.