Greid stood slightly behind me as I tried to peer over tall demiurgus heads. The list of different drinks available was kind of overwhelming, and I didn’t want everyone to think I was some bumpkin if I got to the counter and just asked for “a coffee”.
“What’s your usual order?” Greid asked, ducking down a little because of all the noise. The espresso machines were loud as the baristas pumped out steam, and all the tables inside were filled with people talking or tapping away on laptops.
“Uh…” I glanced around to make sure no one was listening to us. “I’ve never had coffee.”
His yellow eyes filled with horrified sympathy, as if I’d just told him I was the victim of some heinous crime. Glancing up at the board, he ducked down a little more and stretched out a long arm to point.
“The drinks that are safe for humans are marked with a little H, see?”
I stared at the board, trying not to think about how close he was. The sweet smell of shade still clung to him. Somehow, I was already beginning to associate that scent with comfort. With freedom. My gaze shifted from the board to the little, green-tinted claw on his extended finger. It was short and slightly curved. I bet he gave amazing scalp massages with those.
When he dropped his hand, I blinked and quickly nodded. “Okay. Wait, why would some not be safe for humans?”
Greid shrugged, straightening back up and stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I dunno. The ingredients or whatever? They’re just not. I’m not a human expert.”
I snorted, turning my attention back to the board. “Okay, so lattes are the milky ones right? I could happily go a long time without drinking milk.”
“Yeah.”
The line moved, so we shifted forward. Greid moved a touch closer to me when someone edged past him with a takeout cup in their hand. I stared hard at the board, pretending I wasn’t hyper aware of him.
Why am I hyper aware of him?
“How about a mocha?” he suddenly ducked down again to ask. “It’s hot chocolate with espresso. Still milky, but really good. And not super strong.”
“Okay, that sounds nice.”
“Or you can get more than one,” he added quickly. “If you want to try others as well.”
I chuckled. “I don’t think I should go too heavy on the caffeine after a lifetime without, right?”
“Ah, yeah. Probably not. Sometimes when I have too much coffee I get palpitations. And when you have two hearts, it’s pretty distracting.”
I laughed, glancing up at him. After a second he grinned down at me—a big, slightly rabid-looking grin thanks to all his sharp teeth—before a loud voice just in front made me jump.
“Are you trying to fuck me, Gorig?” The demiurgus ahead of us in the line was holding a phone to her ear, her long fingers topped with bright-purple painted claws. “Because I thought you made it very clear that you would rather be fucking that secretary of yours.”
Whirling around with a huff, she caught my eye and rolled hers. As a furious, muffled voice came from the phone, she pulled it away from her ear and told me, “Sorry, darling. My soon-to-be-ex bastard lifemate thinks he’s entitled to my art collection in the dissolution of our matehood.”
“Oh.” I shifted awkwardly. “Uh, I’m sorry—”
“Oh no, don’t be sorry. He’s a worm. Do you hear that, Gorig? You’re a worm,” she barked down the phone, then stepped out of the line. “Go ahead of me, darling. I’m not done ripping him to shreds.”
“Um, thank you.”
I stepped forward as she moved past, but then I saw her gaze land on Greid and grow hot with appreciation. Her yellow eyes trailed down his frame slowly. For some reason, I got the urge to grab his arm and tug him to me.
But Greid was already shuffling closer until his arm bumped mine. Strangely possessive satisfaction flowed through me, and something slightly ugly made me touch his arm and nod at the food in the display, just in case he was looking back at the other demiurgus as she left.
Which—what? What was wrong with me? I’d made it very clear I wasn’t interested in anything like that, and he’d made it equally clear. I was being silly.
“Some of those look interesting,” I said, unable to think of any other reason for diverting his attention. “Are you gonna get some?”
He gave me a dry look, which made me laugh. “Just because you can skip an entire meal doesn’t mean I can—or want to. I’ll get mean if I don’t get some food in me soon.”
Choosing not to bring up the yoghurt he’d been wolfing down when I found him in the kitchen, I snorted and shook my head. “I don’t think you have a mean bone in your body, Greid.”
The last person ahead of us finally stepped to the side to wait by the counter for their drink. Before I could move, I felt Greid place a warm hand between my shoulder blades. Tingles raced from the spot, but he whipped his hand away just as fast.
He cleared his throat. “Sorry.”
When I turned to look at him, his ears were fluttering. Smiling, I said, “Casual touches are okay, remember?”
“Oh, right. Yeah.” He let out a squawk of nervous laughter, then cringed as a few heads turned in our direction. “Sorry. Um, ready to order?”
“Yes.” I stepped up to the counter and gave the waiting demiurgus barista a big smile. Yes, look, I’m just a friendly, normal human. I wasn’t in a cult that worshipped your kind as sex gods! Not me! “Hi there. Can I please have a, um…”
“Mocha,” Greid supplied quietly.
“Mocha,” I echoed to the barista.
“What size?”
“Oh! Um…” I quickly tried to scan the board for their drink sizes. The barista shifted in front of me, long fingers poised over the register screen.
“While you’re deciding, why don’t I give my order?” Greid asked. I gave him a grateful nod, stepping to the side so he could stand beside me.
I felt so stupid. Like a little kid. Why was I sweating? The barista had only asked what freaking drink size I wanted, for god’s sake. It felt like I was playing pretend. Like I’d smeared on my mother’s lipstick and waddled out of the house in her high heels thinking it made me an adult.
I finally spotted the various sizes on offer, then got distracted as Greid rattled off his drink order and about six different food items, including something called a blood tart, which made me side-eye him. After telling the barista what size I wanted, Greid held his phone to the little machine in front of the register before I realised what he was doing.
I gave his arm a gentle thump as we moved to the side to wait. “I wanted to pay for that!”
“Oh. Sorry.” Greid shoved his phone back in his pocket. “Well, you only ordered a tiny coffee and I got a load of food, so it wouldn’t have been fair anyway.”
I huffed and went to argue, but got distracted when a barista leaned over the counter to hand Greid a big paper bag with the Deep Brew logo on the front. He immediately pulled a pastry out and bit into it, and—yep. The little square tart was definitely filled with something thick, jellified and very dark red.
Stomach roiling a little, I asked, “Is that really a… Is that really blood?”
“Uh-huh,” Greid answered through a mouthful.
“What kind of blood?”
He swallowed and looked down at me, yellow eyes solemn. “Do you really want to know?”
“What?” My stomach jolted, and I cast the half-eaten tart a fearful look. “It’s not… Is it..?”
When he snickered, I huffed and punched his arm again. “Dork.”