Chapter Ten #2
“What can I get you to drink?” she asked as she pulled her notepad out of her pocket.
“I’ll have a water,” I said.
She smiled at Cyrus. “And for you, sir?”
“Could I have a water and a pot of green tea for the table, please?”
“Of course,” she said. “I’ll be right back with those.”
“Thank you,” Cyrus and I said in unison as the waitress turned on her heel and walked away.
We sat there for a moment staring at each other.
“So, you’re a painter,” I said. “We didn’t really get to talk much about that at the party. Ya know, because I was a jackass.”
Cyrus crossed his arms and leaned over the table. “You keep dwelling on that bit. I told you it’s fine.”
I huffed and shook my head. “It isn’t, though. I saw the look on your face, Cyrus. My reaction hurt you.” I leaned against the back of the booth, my eyes fixed on a pair of harpies at the rotating bar.
For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to look at Cyrus. Maybe it was embarrassment over my behavior at the party. Maybe it was because I hated how easily he forgave me and how willing he was to help me.
“It did hurt me,” Cyrus said calmly, his voice low and soothing. “But you took the time to apologize and explain yourself. You’re making an effort to get to know your sister’s mate and his friends. You’re making leaps and bounds already.”
I huffed and rolled my eyes. He acted like that was some impressive feat rather than me using him for my own benefit and then trying to make up for it. I was a piece of work who didn’t deserve his kindness. “You’re so fucking positive, you know that?”
He shrugged and gave me a small smile. “When you’ve been around for centuries, you tend to let go of the small stuff.”
“Gods. Centuries. I can’t even imagine. I’m thirty-five and I already feel like I’m falling apart.”
“Thirty-five? Really? You look like you’re still in your twenties.” He raised his bumpy eyebrows, his coy smile spreading into a wide grin.
I could feel my cheeks turning red.
What the fuck was happening here?
One little compliment from Cyrus and I was blushing like a fucking schoolgirl.
“Oh, fuck off,” I grumbled under my breath.
By some act of the goddess, it was at that moment the waitress arrived with our drinks.
“Here you go,” she said, putting our glasses in front of us.
She set the fancy cast-iron tea kettle on a trivet in the center of the table and placed two dainty cups next to it.
The waitress took our order and quickly bustled off to the kitchen, leaving Cyrus and me alone once again.
I watched in awe as his tentacle unraveled from his arm and curled around the handle of the teapot, pouring the hot tea into the cup while his hand held it steady.
“Tea?” Cyrus asked as the tentacle reached across the table, the teapot hovering over my cup.
“Please.” I stared with wide eyes as the tentacle poured my tea. “That’s wild. The painting makes sense now.”
Cyrus set the kettle down and laughed. “It’s especially convenient for painting. I can use my hands and my tentacles.”
Well, the whole tentacle-hand thing checked.
“Have you always been an artist? I’d imagine doing the same thing for centuries gets old pretty quick.”
Cyrus’s tentacle wrapped around his cup and brought it up to his thin lips.
“Most of my passions have been art-focused. Sculpting, architecture, photography, but painting is my favorite. There’s something satisfying about the act of applying paint to canvas and creating something out of nothing.
Taking an image out of my brain and immortalizing it. ”
I didn’t know what to say. That was some eloquent poetic shit.
“What about you?” he asked. “How did you come to work for the Parks Department?”
“I mean, I didn’t have too many options. My dad worked for the Parks Department before me. The old man was actually my boss for a few years while I was in college. He pretty much decided this was what I was going to do.”
Cyrus cocked his head, the bumpy blue skin of his brows wrinkling slightly. “But is that what you wanted?”
If I was being honest, I’d never really thought about it. I’d spent most of my life, at least until my father’s passing, doing what he expected of me: excelling in sports, graduating at the top of my class, and taking over his position at the Parks Department.
When I tried to think about it now, I had no idea what I wanted.
I sat there for a second, rubbing the back of my neck while I watched the steam wafting from my cup.
“I, uh, I don’t really know. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I enjoy my job.
For the most part, it’s pretty easy. But I’ve always felt like—like there’s this void inside me.
Like something’s missing, if that makes sense? ”
Cyrus took another sip of his tea and nodded. “It makes total sense. I hope you can find what you need to fill that void.”
“If I haven’t after thirty-five years, I don’t think I ever will.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised.”
Before I could ask Cyrus to explain what he meant, the waitress made her way over to our table with a giant platter balanced over her arm.
Colorful plates of sushi covered the entire tray.
I didn’t think we’d ordered that many rolls, but seeing them all laid out like that really put things into perspective.
“Sorry about the wait!” she said, setting the plates of sushi down on the table.
“That’s quite all right,” Cyrus reassured her. “We’re not in a rush, are we, Reece?”
“No, not at all.” I shook my head and stared at Cyrus as he beamed up at the waitress.
Gods, he was so fucking kind to everyone he met.
Even to assholes like me who didn’t deserve it.
“Can I get you anything else?” she asked.
I grabbed my chopsticks and slid them out of the wrapper. “I think we’re good, thanks.”
“Enjoy.” She gave us a little nod before she rushed off to another table.
“This looks amazing,” Cyrus said as he broke apart his chopsticks with his hands, then passed them along to one of his tentacles.
The thick appendage curled around the delicate sticks and held them perfectly, clicking them together before reaching for a piece of sushi.
I watched as his tentacle carefully brought the sushi up to his mouth. Cyrus’s lips parted to reveal two tongues, which wrapped around the food and pulled it inside.
My mouth must have been gaping open, because Cyrus laughed at me around his mouthful of food. “Ah, yeah. The tongues freak people out a bit, but they’re actually quite helpful. Especially for certain things.”
I could feel myself blushing once again.
Was Cyrus really telling me that two tongues were helpful when it came to oral?
I felt like I was in an episode of The Twilight Zone.
Never in my life did I think I’d be out to lunch with a kraken, hearing him talk about how good his tongues were for sucking dick.
I pressed my fingers into my temples and rubbed them hard. “Gods, Cyrus. I don’t need to hear all this shit.”
He shrugged while his tentacle used the chopsticks to pick up another piece of sushi. “Well, Fallon and I discuss these sorts of things. I was just trying to be friendly.”
“Oh, it’s friendly all right,” I mumbled, and shoved a piece of sushi into my mouth.
This fucking kraken was doing things to me, and I didn’t hate it.