I feel so stupid running out of the shop like I’d been shocked. Although, in truth, I was shocked. Being that close to Varos, something that rarely happened and only when I was in control of the situation, knocked me more off balance than stepping wrong and almost falling on a child.

It’s so hard to gauge what’s going on between him and me because I can’t be sure it’s not me that’s making this whole thing so weird.

Okay, it’s not like I haven’t noticed how totally hot Varos is. I clearly spotted that the first day I met him at the shop. We hit it off like gangbusters.

Can I say we were really close?

I don’t know. Maybe? I know we probably looked really close but the entire time I always tried to keep this wall of professionality between us. It helps me stay focused. If it bothers Varos, he never indicated. Ever.

For the first few months, it worked.

Somewhere after Carlo enters the scene is when I peg that I was starting that slippery slide of attraction. It wasn’t until very recently that it hit me so hard that ignoring it is not an option any longer.

Do you think he left it there?

Oh no, not Varos. Mr. Social Butterfly Let’s Make Sure Everyone’s Doing Just Fine.

He calls me and wants to go out to dinner.

I’m pretty sure was so embarrassed that I melted my chair cushion.

But hell yeah, I’m going to dinner.

Even if Varos means for this to be a working dinner or a friends-only something or other, I have a pretty good imagination. I can fill in the details that will make me happy and pretend. Since I’m a fox, I’m also pretty good at not letting on and Varos and I can have whatever level of relationship-slash-friendship he’s comfortable with.

Knowing I’m going out with Varos puts me in my happy place. Even if my face still feels like it’s on fire.

The day can’t go by fast enough. Dinner with Varos commands my focus and I’m lucky it’s a very light work day. Otherwise I would have screwed up and that’s never good for a programmer and hacker.

Since I’m pretty much useless at work, I convince my boss I need to leave early. I’m a good employee and he sees no reason that I can’t be cut loose, so I head back to my place to have a shower before trying to figure out what I can wear that doesn’t come across as too dorky.

I finally settle on something casual but nice. New jeans, a pullover shirt leaving the top three buttons open, and brand new sneakers. My feet are a weird shape and the shoes worn by tennis players really are the best fit for me. Looking in the mirror, I feel like I look pretty good. Not dressy, not slouchy.

In my car, I freeze up. Maybe I need something a little more dressy. It occurs to me only at this moment that I hadn’t asked where we’d be going and what would be appropriate.

Should I call and ask? I bet I can change and still arrive at the time Varos texted me earlier.

No. I shouldn’t. I should go on as I am and let it fall out like it will. Varos isn’t a stuffy kind of guy, anyway. He will probably be in jeans, too.

I fire up the car and take off.

Not only did I not have to worry about what Varos was wearing, I didn’t have to worry about where we went.

We went to what is one of my absolute favorite places in the world.

The Stelline Arcades.

Situated on three acres, the building is three stories tall. It’s filled with every possible video and arcade game in the history of the territories for the past fifty years. Three arenas for virtual urban las-tag, video games, gambling tables, Beat-Feet Revolution… it’s all there. They even have a mechanical bull.

Don’t ask me what that’s all about. I have no clue but there’s always a line for it.

The best thing is the dance floor. The cacaphony of music seems like it would be discordant with a dance floor but when you go out among the gyrating bodies, the only music you can hear is the beat to set up a rhythm to move your body.

I’m in my element. I hope Varos dances.

They scanned our cards to make sure we were old enough. The scanner was really old school. I doubt it would detect a fake identity card. Didn’t matter. My fake was top notch. If I ever decide to quit my job, I’d probably go into false identification. Huge market in it.

But I like being on the right side of the law. Even hacking.

Well, most of the time.

Varos is grinning ear to ear, so if he chose this place because of me, and he likes it too? This is a double bonus day for me.

We get our credits to play the games and stand at the back of the bottom floor. “What’s the pattern?” he asks over the din of games.

“First I want to eat, if that’s okay,” I say, leaning into him so he can hear. “Otherwise, I’ll be ass deep in a game and forget until my blood sugar bottoms out.”

“Good plan. It’s this way, right?” Varos points to our left.

“You’ve been in here before,” I say.

“A time or two.” His smile says he’s not telling the whole truth. I’m totally okay with that.

We managed to press through the crowds to get to the eating area. Due to the acoustics, the sound isn’t quite so overwhelming here. Normal conversation is almost possible. There are a few tables available, which means we’ve hit a lag in the dinner rush.

I stand in front of the counter, looking at the menu board. “What are you having?”

“Want a pizza?” Varos pulls his blue card out and hands it to the cashier.

“No anchovies. Everything else is game.”

Varos places our order and gets our drinks while I go save a table before someone beats us to the last empty one.

He comes over with our drinks and sits across from me. “Is this place okay?”

I kick him under the table. “You know it is. I don’t know how you figured out this place was my favorite.”

Varos rocks back with a laugh. “Are you kidding, Ronnie? You go on about it at length regularly. How could I miss that it’s your favorite place?”

“Oh.” My face feels hot. Then it dawns on me that he has been listening to me babble. He listens and he makes note. Now here we are, at a place that he remembers from conversations I thought were just in passing.

Varos places his hand over my straw before I can take a drink. “I have one request, though.”

My mouth almost collides with his knuckles. I draw back. “Okay. It’s not going to hurt, is it?”

“I don’t know. It could.” His lips curl into a smile. “No talking about work. Tonight is just us, enjoying… things. Each other.”

Damn him, he knows just what to say to make me stumble around like a pre-teen. I nod quickly and after he winks at me, and my insides liquefy from his smile, he removes his hand.

At first, it’s hard not to talk about work over the pizza, driving home the point that I don’t have anything else to talk about. Work is all I know.

Luckily for me, Varos knows just how to put me at ease with stories about the guys at the shop when they were all growing up together. And it only takes dinner to finally get me to relax!

He asks a lot of questions about me, my family, and we compare notes about crazy uncles, and cousins who somehow defied all odds and managed to survive the stupid shenanigans they pulled. There are some places in his life that he’s guarded and the answers he gives are vague. I don’t take those personally. We all have those spaces in our hearts.

Or so I’ve heard. I have a tendency to tell everything I know. Many times in the conversation, I have to force myself to stop babbling.

Varos tilts his head and regards me for a moment. “Ronnie, it’s not like you to have a running mouth. Is everything okay?”

“Gah, sorry.” I scrub at my face. “I guess I’m just feeling a little weird. I ran out of the shop like a spooked chicken.”

“I did notice that. Care to talk through that? Was it something I said?”

“No. Something you did but it wasn’t really your fault.”

His brow furrows at me.

“I don’t mean like that. I mean, just when you caught me, I was expecting…” I wave a hand, “I don’t know what I was expecting. I guess I was kind of hoping to have it confirmed that we’re…”

Varos sits patiently, listening. When I don’t finish the sentence, he prompts me. “That we’re…”

“Gods, it’s so stupid. But… what if we’re not fated mates?” And now I feel like a complete idiot because that came out of nowhere, right?

He laughs lightly at that. “Do you want us to be fated mates?”

“I guess I do,” I confess. “Because I like you. A lot. Like, maybe I love you. And in watching the other guys find their fated mates, along with how I feel about you, it just made me wish… Gods, I feel like such a dumbass now.”

“Would it help you to know that you’re not a dumbass and that you’re not the only one who has been thinking about this?”

My head snaps up to meet his gaze. He’s nodding. “It is. I can’t pinpoint exactly when I realized that I really liked your company but for some reason… I guess it just never came up for us to touch each other to find out. I respected your personal space, you seemed to respect mine.”

“We did touch,” I protest. “We did, when you grabbed me to keep me from landing on Charity.”

“Not really the same thing. I don’t recall us ever having skin contact.”

“Is that what it takes?”

“That’s how I understand it.”

“Oh.” The awkward silence falls between us again.

Varos pushes the remains of our dinner to the side and stretches his arm out, hand palm up.

I look at it like it’s an alien appendage. Do I reach out and touch him? Should I?

He wiggles his fingers. “Don’t you want to know?”

“Yeah but…”

“What if we find we aren’t fated mates?”

I nod quickly.

Varos shrugs in answer to his own question. “Does it really matter? It won’t stop us from seeing each other regularly if that’s what we want. I want that, at least. Is it that important for us to have the fated mates connection if we love each other already?”

Love. I said it, although I didn’t mean to, but now he’s said it. My stomach is roiling in anxiety. If I take his hand and there’s no connection, will I be disappointed? Will it affect us, even after our confession to each other? What happens if we do eventually find our fated mates?

Too many unknowns that I don’t feel ready to answer.

Yet, there is his hand, waiting patiently to put the answer to rest once and for all.

I reach out and take his hand.

The sinking feeling in my stomach shifts from uncertainty to something that I’ve never experienced before. It’s like the light electric shocks I get when I forget to ground myself before working on something electrical. Only it’s not painful. It’s a pleasant feeling, like the shock is riding my nerve endings to pulse rhythmically with the pounding of my blood.

Air in the room suddenly snaps away from me. I gasp several times to make sure I can still breathe, trying to get my rapid heartbeat back under control. Sound is muffled in my ears and my mouth is dry.

It’s a feeling of touching something unnameable. Seeing something that defies description and can only be felt deep within the core of my being.

Varos turns our hands. I look down to see the familiar scrolling tattoo of a jungle and the face of a dragon staring out at me. I know that dragon face. I remember seeing it quite often from across the table at the coffee shop.

Looking up, I am gazing deep into Varos’ eyes. It’s not the same, though. There’s something deeper that penetrates me, lancing me through the middle of my chest.

And I know it. I know it as it defies all explanation. There are no words needed as my fox cheers deep in my heart.

Fated mate.