Page 78 of Never Flirt with a Dragon

The way she said my name eased my tension a little.

I didn’t want to watch her smile disappear when I brought up flying, so I nodded toward her tablet. “What are you drawing?”

A flush broke out on her face. It was so damn adorable. “Nothing.”

“Your cheeks wouldn’t be that pink if it was nothing, Sweetheart.”

The color intensified. “You never call me that.”

My forehead creased. “Sure I do.”

“Only when we’re in bed together.”

“We’ve been in bed together for two weeks.”

“Yeah, but when we’re making pancakes or showering, it’s always Miranda. Even my mother doesn’t call me that. It’s so… stiff.” She ate more of her snack, pointedly looking away from me, attempting to change the subject. “How’s Vi?”

“She’s fine. I didn’t realize it bothered you so much when I used your full name. I felt like Miranda fit you better.”

“You can call me whatever you want, okay?”

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my thighs. “I don’t have any experience with relationships either. You were talking about that earlier—that you don’t know what to do. Neither do I. I live in a mountain without any women around. Most of my time with Brynn was nights and mornings, because I was the one who kept shit running here while August and Eli raised her. I flew back and forth between Scale Ridge and the mountain again and again, because there was no alternative.”

I dragged a hand through my hair. “This place would’ve imploded two decades ago if not for me. I manage the guys, I communicate with the politicians, and I’m here when someone needs me—but I’m shit with relationships. I need you to tell me bluntly what you want, when you want it, because I’m fucking clueless here.”

She bit her lip. “You talk with your hands when you get passionate. It’s kind of sexy.”

A gruff laugh escaped me. “Is it?”

“Way too sexy, actually.” She let out a long breath, then finally handed me her tablet. I accepted it, and looked down at the screen.

We were both silent for a long moment as I studied the image.

It was me.

Sleeping, and naked, with a blanket thrown over my junk. My thighs and chest were on display, and my hair was messy, but my expression was calmer than I’d ever seen it.

I finally looked up, meeting her eyes again. Her face was flushed once more, and I fucking loved it. “Damn. You’re good.”

“Thanks.”

I handed the device back, and she set it down on the coffee table beside her chair. “So you don’t want me to call you Miranda.”

She gave me a small shake of her head. “Randa is better. Or Sweetheart. Or Baby. I like both of those.”

“Alright, now we’re getting somewhere. Do you hate pancakes yet?”

She smiled. “No, actually. I’m tired of them, but I do still like them. I think I’ll always associate them with really good sex after the last two weeks, so they’ll probably stay a favorite.”

“Really good? I think we did better than that.”

Her face flushed so bright, it turned red. “Fine, I associate them with mind-blowing sex.”

“World-rocking sex, maybe?” I drawled.

“Life-altering, really.” A strand of hair slipped over her shoulder, and she tucked it behind her ear again. “I’m not very good with change,” she admitted. “I like to take things slowly. I moved to college with one suitcase, because I wasn’t going to bring the last three until I knew for sure that I wanted to stay. Vi hid them under her stuff in the back, which I learned after we got there. If I meet a guy, I don’t usually answer his texts for at least three or four days. I don’t want to make him think I’m interested in commitment, because I’m not.”

“Yet here we are, bonded for life,” I said.

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