Aimee
They reached her SUV shortly after.
She was still marveling at the unbelievable odds that they’d met on the mountain. Even crazier though was the bond she felt developing between them. It had shocked her to realize that there was an actual person in there. She’d initially assumed that he was a dragon who could shift into a human form. It had been an assumption on her part that his personality would always reflect that of the stereotypical dragon.
But the more time he was spending in his human form, the more she began to wonder if she’d gotten it backward. If he was, perhaps, a human who could shift into dragon form. The ability to joke, and to her amazement even flirt with her a little had caught Aimee completely by surprise. There was no denying that that’s what they’d engaged in back there. She wasn’t ready to address the fact that she’d actively participated in it, nor discuss with herself the little shiver that raced down her spine every time his eyes locked onto hers.
She wasn’t going to fall for a dragon. Period. End of story.
“Get in,” she said with a gesture, letting him know the vehicle was hers.
Rhyolite walked up to the black vehicle and stopped. “Um.”
She could see his embarrassment. “Right. You’ve obviously never seen a car.”
“A car?”
“Well, SUV technically, but don’t worry about it. ‘Car’ is a universal term for most vehicles,” she said, grimacing as she babbled slightly. Shaking her head and wondering just when she’d gone and developed a nervousness around men, Aimee walked around to the passenger side and showed him how to operate the door.
“Interesting.” He paused.
“Is there a problem?”
“Well, my father always warned me about getting into metal cages with strange women. I think it’s how I—”
“STOP!” she shouted, holding up a hand and shaking her head furiously. “No. No no no. No more, please. I had no idea that saying went so far back. But I get it. Enough.”
Rhyolite smiled.
“No, not funny dude. You don’t even know my name! You can’t make jokes like that.”
Rhyolite jerked backward. “You’re right.”
“I know I’m right! Dirty jokes have a time and a place. This is not it.”
“What? No, not that. I mean, yes, that too. But I’ve been terribly amiss,” he said apologetically. “My manners have abandoned me it would seem. Please, my name is Rhyolite, as you already know.” He stuck out his hand.
She eyed it for a moment, but internally she knew there was nothing she could do but accept it and give him her name.
“Aimee Florette,” she said, extending her hand.
“You have two names?” he asked, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.
Aimee let his hand slip away with an unexpected feeling of regret. It took a significant amount of mental effort to focus herself on his question. She managed, but whatever it was about him, she could feel it pulling at her like a magnet. This was going to be tough.
“Yes. Aimee is my name, and Florette is my family name.”
He nodded.
“So, Rhys, are you going to continue to stand there and deflect the situation while you work up the courage to go for a ride, or are you going to get in?” She grinned at him and got inside.
“Rice? I’m not a food.”
Maybe not, but you are pretty delicious-looking.
“No, not a food. A shortening of your name. I’m lazy; I want to use one syllable. It’s common,” she assured him as he looked at her suspiciously.
“Very well.”
“Now get in the car,” she ordered with a wink.
He awkwardly entered the passenger side, pulling the door closed hard enough to make her wince, though she doubted there was any actual damage. She saw him pick up on her reaction though and he apologized. At least, she thought that’s what he said, but her eyes were too busy focusing on his lips as he spoke to hear the actual words. He was very kissable.
The thought struck her like a lightning bolt and she sat upright immediately, stomping on the brake pedal and hammering the ignition button with her finger.
Get it together, girl. Look, let’s acknowledge one thing. He’s gorgeous. That hair shouldn’t be that fine for someone asleep for so long, and shouldn’t he have a huge beard instead of that dreamy day-old stubble that I just want to rub my hand all over? Ugh, and that jawline, he’s straight out of some calendar shoot.
She’d been pressed against his chest twice today, and the memory of the power and ease with which he’d swept her up was mixed together with the firmness of his muscles. He was wearing a shirt of some sort of rough fabric, which she’d felt when it rubbed against her exposed cheek once, but Aimee could easily imagine what he looked like underneath it.
Everything about him was perfect with gorgeous lines, except his nose. It had a slight bend to it that looked like it had been broken and never healed properly. It was faint, but she’d been staring at his face long enough now she saw it with ease. Some might not like it, but to her it added the perfect bit of personality to a face that would otherwise be too gorgeous to look at for long.
It made him human, something that she realized she’d desperately been craving from him. That, combined with his earlier antics was making him more accessible to her, more relatable. It was almost as if he was able to sense her thoughts.
“Or read my mind.”
“Pardon?”
“Can you read minds?” she asked, pulling on her seatbelt and showing him how to do the same as a way of deflecting the fact she hadn’t intended to ask that question aloud.
“What? No, that’s not an ability that we possess.” It was obvious he was holding back.
“At all?”
“I cannot just look into your mind any time I wish,” he reassured her.
It was an answer, albeit not a full one. Still, it assuaged the concerns she had. Who was she to judge if he wished to keep some secrets? The fact that he’d let her live with the knowledge that he even existed spoke volumes about his trust for her. She could let him have this one.
“So, what are you capable of?” she asked as she wheeled the vehicle around and headed back down the road toward Drake’s Crossing.
“Hmmm. Well, we can fly, you know. That’s pretty fun.”
She snorted. “No shit. Dragons can fly? Man, that is cool.”
“It can get cold up there, yes, but—”
Aimee started laughing, cutting him off with a wave of one hand, keeping the other on the wheel. “No, no, not literal. Cool when used like that means it’s neat, interesting, that sort of thing.”
“Ah. Then yes, it is cool.”
“Yeah. I love flying.”
Rhys looked over at her so sharply she thought he was going to break his neck. Even viewing it out of the corner of her eye it had looked like a violent movement.
“You can fly?” he asked cautiously.
“What?” She was confused. “Oh! No, not like you can, that’s not what I meant. In the helicopter for my job. The thing that I first landed near your cave in?”
“Oh, of course. That makes a lot more sense. What is your job? Does everyone ride in one of those helicopters?”
“No. Not many people do at all, to be honest. I work as part of the Search and Rescue Team for Drake’s Crossing.” She briefly outlined what that meant.
“You risk yourself for the sake of others?”
“Yes,” she replied instantly.
“That’s very noble of you.”
She shrugged. “I suppose.”
“Don’t be so unkind to yourself. That is a very kind thing for you to do. In my time, it was rather unheard of.”
“Maybe.” She wasn’t sure what else to say. “The world is a different place now, Rhys. I think, even with the ability to adapt that you’ve shown so far, that you’re going to feel way out of your depth once we get to Drake’s Crossing.”
He grinned. “I doubt it.”