Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93267 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93267 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
“You know this isn’t the case at all. If I had my way, I’d just shove you in my hoard and keep you there for all time.” Gregori leaned forward and braced his hands on the table. “I just want you to have the choice of having your own space here. I trapped you with me in your own home and that wasn’t fair.”
“I didn’t give you much choice.”
Gregori shrugged. “Still wasn’t fair. If you want to spend more time with me and learn more about what it means to be mates, then I want to do it at a pace you’re comfortable with.”
Salem’s expression turned into one of thoughtful contemplation. “Yes. Yes, I think I will take you up on it. Some space would do us both some good.”
Salem bent his neck back, trying to loosen the knot forming right at the base of his shoulder blades. The sensation brought back memories of being in medical school, spending hours poring over books and trying to cram facts into his overheating brain.
Which, he basically was back in school, so it made sense.
The second he stopped focusing on words, his stomach made a petulant growl. Oh. Right. He hadn’t eaten yet today and it was—he glanced at the clock on the desk—shit, it was already two in the afternoon. Salem’s tunnel vision when studying was legendary, but dammit, hadn’t he matured enough to remember to at least eat?
Stomach gave another petulant growl.
Damn bodies. So needy and inconvenient. Ugh, fine, he’d get something. Oh wait, with it being this late, maybe Gregori had made something.
He turned in his chair as he spoke. “Hey, Gregori, did—fuuuuuck.”
He’d just done it again.
Salem forehead-planted against the back of the chair. How could he have forgotten he and Gregori weren’t currently living together again? This was the third time he’d called for his dragon without remembering. Like it was natural for Gregori to be there and within range to hear his call. This was just embarrassing at this point. Since when did having Gregori nearby feel natural? Since when did his absence feel like missing a limb?
Granted, Salem was still coming to terms with the fact he apparently cared enough about Gregori to turn his whole world upside down just to keep the man safe and happy. Salem had honestly thought he’d die alone his entire life, so finding out a. that wasn’t true, and b. he was apparently capable of this level of devotion still sent his head spinning. It was why, when Gregori had offered him some space to think, he’d taken him up on it. Too much had changed too fast; he’d needed time to process it.
However, it seemed only his brain had needed processing time. His heart did not. Clearly. Two days of being in this apartment had felt lonely. Especially after he’d turned to ask Gregori something, only to abruptly remember he wasn’t here.
He’d hesitated to admit his feelings aloud to Gregori because doing so felt like a leap of faith he hadn’t been ready for. Hell, he’d been too scared to even acknowledge to himself that he was in love with the man. But the dragon had damn near died to stay with him, and what further proof of devotion did he need? Really. Salem still thought Gregori was insane to pick him of all people, but apparently there was no accounting for tastes. Gregori had put it all on the line.
It was time for Salem to do the same.
Fuck, this was still emotionally scary. How had Gregori done this, over and over again, without having any assurance Salem felt the same? Here he sat, knowing Gregori loved him to hell and back, and he was still nervous as all get out. Why were emotions such messy things? And demanding, too.
Salem sucked in a breath, rooted about for courage, and found some. Hopefully a large enough supply to commit properly to Gregori because it was definitely necessary. And past due.
Argh, dammit. Why were dragons so charming? They worked their way under your skin before you knew it. Or at least, Gregori certainly had.
Salem’s stomach grumbled again. It was now on the verge of threatening legal action.
He sighed and got up. “I clearly have been spoiled. I’m far too used to Gregori making sure I eat. How the hell did he even spoil me so fast?”
His analytical brain mocked him. Oh, that’s easy, you never take care of yourself to begin with.
Damn you, analytical brain, for probably being correct.
Fortunately for all, there was an amazing mess hall here. The food was out of this world good. Then again, he was mostly surrounded by people who had literal centuries of experience in cooking, so it kinda figured. Salem was definitely reaping the benefits and had no problem doing so.
He grabbed his phone, threw on sandals—no one seemed to wear actual tennis shoes in Brazil, just sandals—and headed out. Salem walked while he thought, pensive.