“Lucinda Taylor.”

“Here.”

“Blaise Dragon.”

“Here.”

“Wonderful. We’re all present and accounted for. Welcome to Simple to Fix Foods 101. For those of you who are new to Lafourche Community Center, welcome. I am your instructor, Mrs. Fontenot.” Mrs. Fontenot was a round-faced, blue-haired older female. She seemed pleasant enough with apple cheeks and a wide smile.

With Cherry’s help, I had decided to take a class to learn to cook. I was hoping it would help prove to Chyna my worthiness as a mate. There were five other students enrolled besides myself.

“Since all of you have signed the safety procedures forms, let’s all make our way over to the hot plates and cooking supplies set up.” Mrs. Fontenot gestured to the back of the room.

“I want to be next to the bodybuilder.” As I noticed the slender, blonde female who had spoken, she winked. I looked over my shoulder to see if she was talking to someone behind me, but when I saw no one was there, I realized she must have been talking to me. I ignored her.

After spending about five minutes explaining the procedures and instructions for making pancakes, the blue-haired Mrs. Fontenot told us to begin. I was feeling confident. No more runny eggs and burnt toast for my mate. I would make her the most delicious breakfast ever, if only I could convince her to stay until morning.

“So, big guy, what brings you to cooking class?” It was the slender blonde, and she was leaning a little too close to me.

“I am learning to cook for my ma—my girlfriend.”

She clucked her tongue and pouted. “Darn. All of the good ones are taken.”

The male next to me elbowed me and whispered loudly. “Dude, I’m single. Trade places with me.” I was more than happy to comply. And as soon as I did, he began a running dialogue aimed at the blonde.

“So, my name is Jorge. I work in retail. I take these classes once in a while as a way to meet new and interesting people. I have to say, you’re one of the most interesting people I’ve met in a long time. Do you live around here?”

I winced. It would seem Jorge was not very smooth with the females. I concentrated on mixing my ingredients. I poured some oil into the pan and waited for it to heat. This was not so difficult. It now seemed silly that I had never attempted to cook before. For over eighty years, I had been eating prepared food and takeout. I was eager to surprise my mate with a delicious meal.

As I poured my batter into the hot pan, I kept one eye on Jorge. He seemed to know what he was doing, and I suspected it wasn’t his first time taking a cooking class. If Jorge could make a pancake, I could.

I watched as Jorge held the pan up off the hot plate. “Watch this.” He flicked his wrist so that, amazingly, the pancake flew up, flipped in midair, and came back down in the pan.

“Wow. That was awesome.” The blonde’s eyes widened. Hmm, Jorge’s trick impressed the female. I could do that.

If a puny human like Jorge could flip a pancake, I could. I was smart about it, too. Using my spatula, I made sure my pancake was loosened around the edges, then, with a flick of the wrist, I flipped the pancake into the air. I did a wonderful job. I flipped mine twice as high as Jorge had. I grinned with pride. I liked cooking.

I even received a chorus of oohs and aahs from the other students. Murmurs of awe and admiration. Or so I thought. Until I realized that my pancake did not return to its pan. I looked around for it only to find Ms. Fontenot standing in front of me with her hands on her hips, jaw hanging open, and pancake batter dripping down her forehead. She was wearing my pancake like a hat.

Just as the gravity of the situation kicked in, I smelled something burning. I froze. I wasn’t sure what I should do in the situation. Should I clean her. Yes, I should probably remove my pancake from her blue-gray hair. As I leaned over, the burning smell was stronger this time. Someone was seriously scorching their pancake. Only when the smoke curls wafted in front of my eyes did I notice that somebody was me. My apron was on fire.

It was not the end of the world. I could put out a fire, and I would heal within minutes from any burns incurred. I patted the growing flames, effectively extinguishing them. All would have been well if the small fire had not triggered the sprinkler system.

There were screams and shouts as the sprinklers ruined all the pancakes and drenched my classmates. Ms. Fontenot, dripping wet and wiping soggy pancake from her face, just glared at me as she pointed to the door.

I was later than I meant to be. After I was expelled from cooking class, I’d spent a little while flying around, trying to calm myself. Chyna was waiting for me. I could feel her. She’d visited every other night for the first week, then every night for the past week. She never stayed. She never let me fly her home. She never knew that I flew above her every night, watching over her. Ensuring she made it safely home.

She could just let herself in, but I knew she wouldn’t. It was somehow crossing one of her boundaries in this game we were playing.

The darkness I’d been carrying around lifted slightly when I got closer to my home. I could scent that Chyna was there. Brownies and vanilla cream icing. Seeing her in the evenings was the part of the day that I lived for.

I wanted more than what Chyna was giving me, but I did not know how to get it. She was like an impenetrable wall. No matter how much I huffed or puffed or demanded, she wasn’t budging. No sleepovers. No feelings. No cuddling. Just sex. If I held her too long, she pulled away like I was a dirty mop against her skin.

I did not understand. My dragon did not understand. Yet, there I was. Surrendering completely to playing by Chyna’s rules for a mere taste of her every day. Maybe, it wouldn’t have been so frustrating if it felt like she appreciated me at all.

I landed and shifted. Instead of heading up to Chyna naked like I normally would, I let myself in the side of the house and pulled on a pair of jeans before going out and sitting across from her in what was left of the patio chairs. I’d need to eventually replace the ones Remy and I had broken. Actually, looking around, I noticed for the first time how dirty the place was. I’d tried cooking, and that had not worked well. Perhaps if I could learn to clean…

Sitting next to Chyna without touching her was painful, but I was feeling bitter. It had been a terrible day. I did not look at her.

“Where were you?” Her usually husky voice was quiet. “You’re usually here when I get here.”

“Just out.” I sighed. “How was your day?”

“Were you with someone else? You smell like perfume.”

The anger in her voice soothed me, and I finally looked up at her. She was just as stunning as always; her thick, black, curly hair hung loosely over her shoulder. There was anger in her eyes, but also hurt. That didn’t soothe any part of me, even the hurt parts of my own.

“I was in town.”

She slumped in her chair and looked out over the water. “Sounds like fun.”

“You could come along. We could go together sometime.”

“Blaise…”

I stood up and marched toward the house. “Yes, I know. Sex only. Well. Come on. I’d hate to have to force you to talk to me.”

Chyna followed me. “What the hell is your problem?”

“You know what my problem is.”

“Fine. You want to talk? Let’s talk.” She stepped over a pile of ripped clothing I needed to toss. “I’m not in a great mood. I don’t know why I even came here.”

“Because we are mates, and no matter how much you fight it, we need each other.”

“You’re breaking the rules, Blaise.”

“And you’re making all the rules.” I scrubbed my hands down my face and stopped overthinking everything for a moment. Going with my gut, I thought about what I wanted to know. “Why was your day shitty?”

“I found out about my neighbor.”

I sank into my couch and sighed, expecting her to be disappointed with me for that, too. “Yeah?”

“I can’t believe he was responsible for the gasoline. I should press charges. If he had that big of a problem with my little shed on the back of his multiple acres of land, all he had to do was tell me to move it. He didn’t have to try to burn it down.”

I growled. “He almost killed you.”

“I got the impression that you made him really regret that. More than he already did.” She gave me a rueful smile. “What happened?”

“I followed the scent of the accelerants to his house, and we had a long talk about what he’d done. He lived only because he hadn’t meant to hurt you.”

“Blaise!”

I shrugged. “What? It is the truth. Do you wish me to lie? If his intention had been to harm you in any way, I would have killed him.”

“Probably not something you should say too loudly.”

“Why? Do you think your puny jails could hold a dragon who did not want to be caged?” I flexed my muscles. “No chance.”

Her face closed off. “There’s something else.”

“Did he try anything?” I sat forward, ready for her to give me the word. I’d be at her neighbor’s shitty little house in minutes.

“No, no. It’s…I got a job offer. In Florida. I’ll be gone for a couple of months.”