“Yeah, it wasn’t bad,” I agreed, tying off the condom and wrapping it in a paper towel before tossing it into the trash can. I pushed my red hair back from my forehead, feeling the cool air of the storage room against my heated skin.
My bottom pulled up his pants, still breathing heavily. His eyes never left me as I buttoned my shirt. “So, when can we do this again?”
And there it was. The question I always dreaded. I glanced at him as I fastened my belt. He was attractive enough, with his broad shoulders and rugged features. Good to fuck, too. But I could already see that look in his eyes, that dangerous hint of something beyond physical attraction.
“Maybe we’ll run into each other again sometime,” I said casually, reaching for my messenger bag. “If we do, who knows?”
His face fell slightly. “That’s it? Just a maybe?”
I sighed, pulling my bag over my shoulder. “Look, that was fun. Really fun. But I don’t do relationships or regular hookups. It just complicates things.”
“We could just keep it casual,” he pressed, taking a step toward me. “No strings attached.”
I’d heard that before. There were always strings, eventually. Whether they were emotional or magical, they’d end up tying me down if I wasn’t careful.
“I don’t think you understand what casual means,” I said, my voice cooler now. “This was sex. Good sex. But that’s all it was or ever will be.”
“Is there someone else?” he asked, frowning. “Do you already have a boyfriend?”
I laughed, the sound hollow even to my own ears. “No. And that’s the way I like it.”
I headed for the door, eager to escape the suddenly stifling room. I didn’t need to look back to know he was watching me, probably with that hurt expression all people got when they realized I meant exactly what I said.
“What are you so afraid of?” he called after me.
I paused at the doorway, my hand on the knob. For a brief moment, I considered telling him the truth about what I was, about the curse that haunted my kind. About how loving me could quite literally be the death of me.
Instead, I glanced over my shoulder with a practiced smirk. “Who said anything about being afraid? I just prefer my freedom.”
Before he could respond, I slipped out the door and into the dimly lit hallway of the art building. The evening air felt cool against my face as I pushed through the exit doors, my footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.
Outside, the evening chill sent a shiver down my spine. Or maybe it was the Yeti’s parting words still echoing in my head. What was I afraid of? Everything. Nothing.Whatever.
I pulled my jacket tighter around me as I crossed the courtyard. The art building was on the far edge of campus, which meant a long walk back to the cafeteria. The sun was already setting, painting the sky in vivid oranges and purples that reminded me of one of my recent paintings. I’d been working on a series of stormy seascapes, trying to capture that moment just before a tempest breaks. Professor Aurelia had praised the technique but questioned the “emotional distance” in my work.
Whatever the hell that meant. I was pretty sure she just wanted me to paint portraits or flowers like every other art student who was only there to get away from their parents.
My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Between classes and my impromptu storage room fuck, I’d worked up quite an appetite. The cafeteria would be crowded this time of evening, but I didn’t have much choice unless I wanted to go hungry.
“Nerion! Wait up!”
I turned to see a familiar figure jogging toward me. Linden’s tall frame moved with the grace of someone completely at ease in his body, something I only felt when I was in water. His dark green hair bounced with each step, and his easy smile was already in place before he reached me.
“Hey,” he said, falling into step beside me. “Where’ve you been? I looked for you after your ceramics class.”
“I had to ask the professor some questions about an upcoming project,” I lied smoothly. Linden was my best friend, but he didn’t need a play-by-play of everything I did.
Linden nodded, completely buying it. That was the thing about Linden. He never assumed people were lying. It made him both refreshingly genuine and hopelessly naïve. But then again, for a Dryad that had grown up in a forest alone caring for the trees, I couldn’t expect much else.
“You heading to dinner?” he asked, his long legs easily matching my brisk pace.
“Yeah. Starving.”
“Same. Professor Willow had us practicing growth charms all afternoon. Do you know how much energy it takes to convince a sapling to grow three feet in ten minutes? I could eat a horse.”
I glanced at him with a smirk. “Please don’t. The cafeteria food is questionable enough without adding equine options.”
Linden laughed, the sound warm and rich like honey. We’d been friends since freshman year when we’d been assigned as roommates. Despite my best efforts to keep him at arm’s length, his relentless cheerfulness had worn me down. Three years later,he was probably the closest thing I had to a best friend at Widdershins.