by Dee J. Stone
I look into his eyes, wanting to believe him. But I don’t. It’s not that I have such a low self-esteem that I think I’m ugly. I just know I’m not very pretty and that I wouldn’t be guys’ first choice. Of course Leah claims that I have a lot to do with that, since I have problems letting people in, but it’s easier to put the blame on my average looks than my actual self.
I seriously doubt that out of all the females in the world, a smokin’ hot merman finds me beautiful. He’s just being nice, maybe because he feels like he owes me or something. Maybe he’s blinded because I’m his “savior” or whatever.
I clear my throat and turn around, forcing his hands to fall away. “The food’s probably done.”
After taking out the pan from the oven, I pour some of the baked ziti into two plates and place them on the table. Damarian and I sit down across from each other.
“Careful, it’s hot. You’re not used to hot dishes, so be extra cautious.”
When I blow on the ziti, he copies me. I watch how he slowly takes a bite, his eyes going from hesitation, to wonder, to delight. “Like?” I ask.
“This is quite delicious.” He dumps some more in his mouth.
“Careful,” I remind him.
I feel all giddy that he likes my baked ziti. Once again, an image of him and me cooking together flashes before my eyes. I blink it away and focus on eating. When I bring my gaze to Damarian, I find that he finished everything on his plate.
“More?” I ask.
“Yes, please.”
I take his plate and add another serving. Damarian digs in. I grin as I watch him devour it, feeling giddy again. I try to shake it off and not make a big deal out of it, but I can’t help how good I feel. How good he makes me feel.
When we’re done, he offers to help me with the dishes. Like a real gentleman. I put him on drying duty while I rinse. We work silently and efficiently, and I find myself smiling like a dork.
Damarian pushes some hair away from my face. “I enjoy seeing you smile,” he says.
I hand him my plate. “Thanks. You sound like my mother.”
“Does she not see you smile often?”
I hold a glass cup under the faucet for a bit, unsure of how to answer without spilling my life story. “It’s a little…hard to be happy and smiley around her.”
“Why?”
I glance at him, at his sincere eyes and caring face. Opening up has never been easy for me, especially with a guy, but Damarian is different. Even if he returns to the ocean one day and I never see him again, I still feel like he’s someone I can let in. My body deflates as I think about never seeing him again, but I don’t want to think about that for now. I don’t want to worry about what lies ahead. I just want to live in the present and enjoy whatever this is.
“It’s kind of a long story,” I say, laughing lamely.
“I am willing to listen.”
I puff out some air. “Okay. After we’re done with the dishes.”
We finish working in silence. I put popcorn in the microwave so that I can busy myself with something while I bare my soul. Once it’s ready, we sit down on the living room couch. I cross my legs underneath me and face him.
“So…my father left me and my mom when I was ten.”
Both his eyebrows lift. “Left?”
I pick some popcorn and play with it. “Yeah. He met a woman online and fell in love with her. I guess my parents’ marriage was already failing if he went snooping around online. He and the woman met secretly for a while until my dad finally had the balls to tell my mom. He was cheating on her for about eight months. He walked out the next day. He didn’t even, like, kiss me goodbye or anything. It was just a pat on the head and a promise to keep in touch. I wasn’t that young, but I was pretty naïve and innocent, so I thought Daddy would always come back. I didn’t want to be one of those kids, the one with the divorced parents. He and I hardly spoke, and when we did, it was because I reached out to him. We lost all contact after he and his new wife had their kids. Now he wants to reconnect.” I shake my head. “I can’t bring myself to do it.”
I slowly raise my eyes to his. They’re a bit confused. “Cheating,” he says.
I stare at him for a few seconds. “You’re telling me merpeople don’t cheat? Husbands and wives don’t leave each other for other mermaids or mermen?”
He’s looking at me like I’m the mythical creature who washed up ashore. “One never leaves his mate.”
“Never?”
“It is not done.”
I grab some more popcorn and squeeze it between my fingers. No way. He’s telling me that cheating isn’t even a thing in the merworld?
“You stay together forever,” I say.
“Yes.”
“Do you know how amazing that is?”
Now he grabs some popcorn and smashes it between his fingers. “It is most certainly not amazing.”
I just look at him.
His focus is on his fingers. “If one were to mate with one he does not wish to mate with, he is…”
“Trapped,” I finish.
He nods. I open my mouth to expand on this, but his face shines. “I very much enjoy having conversations with you.”
I pull on a loose thread on my pants. “Thanks. Me, too.”
He takes a handful of popcorn and shoves it into his mouth.
“Wanna do something fun?” I ask.
“Yes.”
I shuffle back a little. “Take one and aim it at my face.”
He plucks one out of the bowl and throws it. I catch it in my mouth, producing a laugh from him. I munch on the popcorn, pumping my hands in the air. “You’re looking at the world’s popcorn-catching champion. Okay, maybe not the world, but I like to think so.”
His eyes flash with glee. “I must attempt this.”
I take the popcorn bowl from him and toss one at his face. When he misses, we both roll around laughing. I try a few more, but he keeps missing them. He grabs a handful and launches them at me. Soon the carpet is covered with popcorn, and I’m laughing so hard tears run down my cheeks.
Somehow, he and I have inched closer to one another. As my laughter dies down, I lightly shove his shoulder. “Who exactly is going to clean all this up?”
I now notice that tears cover his face as well. He rubs his left cheek and examines his fingers. “Water,” he says.
“You don’t see tears in the ocean,” I say, the realization hitting me.
“I know tears,” he says, still fascinated by the liquid on his fingers. “But I did not know they were as so.”
“Taste them.”
He does and his eyes widen. “Salt.”
“Yep.” I get down on my knees and gather the popcorn in a pile. I straighten up and look at him. “Damarian?”
“Yes?”
“I…” My gaze drops to the floor. “I haven’t really had this much fun in a while.”
Our eyes meet. “Neither have I,” he says.
That causes a warm feeling to pass through every cell in my body.
I reach for the small garbage bin in the corner of the room and throw the popcorn inside. Damarian joins me on the floor. “I am exhausted,” he says.
“Yeah, it’s been a long day. We’ll head to bed after this.” I freeze. “I mean, we’ll each head to our own beds, because…you know, we both have our separate beds…” My voice trails off when I realize how silly I sound.
“Of course,” Damarian says.
I don’t know why my body fills with disappointment. Was I hoping he’d ask to bunk in with me? This guy—well, non-guy—is affecting me in ways I’ve never been affected before. We go from having awkward moments, to great conversations, to throwing popcorn at each other. I don’t know what to make of all of it. It scares the hell out of me, but it also makes me feel really excited. And alive.
He follows me upstairs to the guestroom. As soon as he walks in and looks inside, he says, “The royal bed.” His gaze treks to me. “I am to sleep here?”
I fluff up the pillows again. “Yep.”
“And you?”
“I have my own bed in my room.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “I am not fit for a royal bed.”
“It’s okay. I already told you it’s not for royalty. You’ll sleep really comfortably here. You’re my guest and I want to make you feel at home. If you need anything, my room is right down the hall. Just knock on the door. Okay?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
I feel like the appropriate thing to do is to depart with some gesture. A hug or something. That would be weird, though. I give him a smile and close the door behind me.
My room is down the hall, but it might as well be on the other side of the planet. I climb into bed and tuck my blanket under my chin.
I toss and turn for a few minutes, but sleep just won’t come. My mind is too active, filled with thoughts and memories of Damarian. From the moment he saved me, to the moment I closed the guestroom door.
Rolling onto my side, I feel my mouth curve into a smile.
Chapter Ten
The first thing to enter my head when my eyes shoot open is Damarian.
I spring up in bed and glance at the time. 7:15. Work starts at nine. I climb out of bed and head to the guestroom. The door’s open, which means he must be up already. I peek inside and see the room is empty.
Noises come from the kitchen. The sounds of cupboards being opened. He must be hungry.
When I get down there, I stop short. The kitchen is a complete mess. Food and wrappers clutter the table and floor. My eyes search the room until I find Damarian on his knees, bending into one of the bottom drawers.
“Good morning.”
He bumps his head.
“Sorry,” I say.
Rubbing the spot on his head, he gets to his feet. “Good morning, Cassie.” He gestures to the mess on the table. “Forgive me for the disorder. I have tried locating the delicious fish I ate the other day, but I cannot seem to find it.”
I feel bad. He’s probably been up for a while. I search through the pantry, but there aren’t any sardines left. “I guess you finished the last one. Sorry. I can make breakfast, if you want. Scrambled eggs?”
It’s obvious by his face that he has no clue what that is.
I open the fridge and take out three eggs—one for me and two for him. By the size of those muscles, he definitely needs more than one.
“May I be of assistance?”
I grab an onion and a knife. “Thanks. I’d ask you to cut the onion, but I don’t want you using the knife.” I open the drawer and take out the whisk. “You can whisk the eggs.”
I crack the eggs into a bowl, tell him to add a bit of salt, pepper, and milk, and then to whisk them all together. He seems fascinated as he watches the eggs blend together. Eyebrows scrunched, he lifts the whisk, and the eggs ooze into the bowl. He opens his mouth and is about to let the eggs drip inside, when I say, “No, don’t eat that. We need to fry them first.”
I grab a pan, add oil, and turn on the stove.
“You use this…heating device often,” he says.
I nod. “Can’t live without it.”
Once I finish making our breakfast, we sit down at the table to eat. I watch Damarian pick at the eggs with his fork before hesitantly bringing them to his mouth. He chews for a while before swallowing. “This is…strange. Nothing like I have tasted before.”
“You like?”
“It is all right.”
I bite into my eggs. “Any plans for today?”
He shrugs.
“I have my surfing class in an hour. Do you want to come with me to the beach?”
He nods.
I scoop some more eggs onto my fork. “I was thinking last night. It might be best for you to swim in the pool twice a day, once in the morning and once at night. That way, we’ll be assured you’ll be okay.”
He thinks it over for a bit. “That is a smart solution. Thank you.” He smiles, his entire face shining. My stomach flutters. He really knows how to make me feel appreciated.
We finish eating and put our plates in the sink. When I turn around, I ram right into his chest. Slowly, I raise my eyes until they meet his. He twirls a lock of my hair between his fingers. “You have not bound your hair.”
My throat dries up. When I talk, my voice is hoarse. “No.” Not since you told me how pretty it looks like this.
“Thank you for all you have done for me,” he says softly, his warm breath tickling my cheek. “For providing me with a bed fit for a king. For this magnificent breakfast. For your kindness.”
I can’t think over the loud hammering of my heart.
“I enjoy being near you,” he says, his voice above a whisper.
My eyes drop to his lips less than a few inches from mine. Wrapping his hand around my waist, he backs me up against the sink. His lips close over mine.
The sink digs into my back as he presses into me, his lips moving against mine in desperation, as if this has been building up inside him for days. My arms snake around his back and slide upward. I bury my fingers in his hair, tugging and hauling his face closer to mine. His lips are warm and taste like the ocean, and I feel like my mouth is exploding. A soft moan escapes my lips. Heat pools all over me, making it hard to stay upright. It’s a good thing my body’s leaning against the sink because there’s no way my legs would support me.
Just as I feel myself melting into him, he jerks back.
I blink a few times, my chest huffing and puffing, my head spinning.
Damarian looks as though he accidently killed someone. “Forgive me,” he mutters, turning around and raking his fingers through his hair. “Forgive me, Cassie. That was most inappropriate.”
No, it was wonderful.
He whips around. Did I say that out loud?
His worried and ashamed eyes soften for a second, but then they turn a little hard. “Perhaps we shall head for the beach.”
Every organ in my body slides down and dissolves into a puddle around my feet. Am I a bad kisser or something? Do I disgust him? Does he regret what he did? Because I don’t. Not at all.
Tears threaten my eyes, but I shove them away. “Yeah. We should go.” I glance at the time. I need to be at work soon.
I collect the rest of the dishes and dump them in the sink. He stands on the side with his arms crossed, his eyes anywhere but on me. Something cold prickles my skin, causing goose bumps to pop up all over my arms and legs.
Trying my hardest to ignore the negative feelings starting to consume me, I go upstairs to change into my wetsuit. As soon as I reach my room, I close the door and sink down, pulling at my hair and burying my face in my palms. I don’t understand what happened. Why is he acting so strange, so cold and rude? He kissed me, a real one this time. It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever experienced in my life. Granted I don’t have a lot of experience in this department, but it breaks the top-ten-awesome-things-that-have-happened-to-me list. In the short moment when our lips were attached, I felt something deep. Something beyond the physical and emotional. It’s like we were connected spiritually, as if the universe told us we’re meant to be together.
It’s easy to forget he’s a merman. So easy.
A few tears seep out. I wipe them and change into my wetsuit. When I return to the kitchen, I find Damarian washing the dishes. The sight makes my heart warm up, but I close my eyes and throw those feelings away. I clear my throat, and he turns around. “We need to leave soon. Want to go for a swim in the pool?”
“Yes.” He shuts the water and walks over to me. His hand slowly lifts toward my face. I close my eyes as I feel the back of his fingers brushing my cheek, so light, like the touch of a feather. “Forgive me for my behavior, Cassie,” he murmurs.
My eyes flutter open. I bring my hand to his cheek and do the same. “It’s okay. I’m glad you kissed me again.” I feel the blush all the way in my toes.
His gaze drops to my lips for a second before returni
ng to my eyes. “I am glad as well.”
***
After Damarian finishes his swim, he pulls himself out of the water in his merman form. He dries off with a few towels to speed up the process because I’m running late for work. He shifts into a human, and now we are on our way to the beach.
All I’m thinking about is how I want those lips on mine again. He walks silently next to me, studying the scenery around him.
The beach is quite full. I lead Damarian to the spot where I have my class. When I turn to him, I find him gazing out toward the ocean, a longing look in his eyes. I slide my fingers through his and squeeze. His eyes find mine and his features soften into a smile. We stand side by side, our hands interlocked, staring out at the beautiful ocean.
“Miss Cassie!” Eight-year-old Timmy runs toward us, towing his surfboard behind him.
I squeeze Damarian’s hand again. “My kids are arriving. You can wander around the beach if you want. Check out the shops. My class will be done in an hour.”
Damarian sweeps his hand toward the sand. “I shall remain here and observe you, if that is all right.”
“Okay. Just make sure you don’t get too close to the water.” We do not want the tail at this time.
When my class is done and the kids disperse, Damarian gets up. “May I observe you sailing on the sea?”
“Sure.” I grab my surfboard off the sand and race into the ocean.
Usually when I surf, I don’t pay any attention to spectators. It’s just me and the ocean. But now that Damarian’s watching, I’m nervous. I want to prove something. I’m not sure what. Maybe…if I surf well in the ocean—his home, his life—maybe I’m worthy enough for him.
The waves are decent today. Not amazing, but pretty good. As I wait for a wave to hit, I take a deep breath and let it out, telling my mind to focus on nothing but the sparkling blue and green water. Next thing I know, I’m surfing on a semi-huge wave.
And I totally nail it.
I run back to Damarian and press my towel into my face, grinning at him, who’s grinning back. Then I catch sight of a guy a few feet away, wearing a wetsuit and holding a familiar-looking light blue surfboard. Kyle. My hands freeze mid-wipe. Damarian, seeing my expression, spins around. Then he looks back at me. “Are you all right?”