Page 67 of Never Feed a Dragon

“I know. The only person who can decide what’s right for you, is you.”

“Exactly! Just because something works for them doesn’t mean it would work for us. And it doesn’t mean we want it to work, either. Being roommates is much safer in the long run. There’s less risk for both of us. More security. More freedom.”

Eli was silent for a heartbeat.

I went on, “We’re not going to fall out of being friends like people can fall out of love. You’re not going to change your mind about joking around with me. Neither of us has to be the one who loves more, so we’ll be balanced. We’ll have peace. Everything will be simpler.”

When I looked at Eli, he dipped his head in a small nod.

“We haven’t figured out the details, but we’ll get there, right? Hell, we can figure them out now. I’ll pay half the bills, and we can both buy our own food. I’ll be in charge of dinner, you can keep the pantry stocked with cereal, and?—”

“Breathe, Vi.” Eli reached across the countertop and set his hand on top of mine, over the hand mixer. He turned it off, and I set it down with a shaky breath. “We’re mated. Permanently.”

Panic swelled in my abdomen. “That doesn’t?—”

“Let me finish.” He released my hand and leaned back in his chair. “Whatever we decide to be is between us, but we are mates. There’s no changing that. We’re going to live together for the rest of our very long lives, in whatever capacity we choose. If we do it as friends, that’s fine.”

His words eased my panic a little.

“But we’re not two separate units anymore. We’re not splitting bills. We’re not assigning meals to one person or another. We’re a team. That doesn’t require romance, but it’s still a partnership.”

I breathed a little easier with that.

He wasn’t insisting on a romantic relationship.

He was giving me the facts. And the facts were that our souls were bound. Our lives, too.

“What do you suggest, then?”

“I suggest that we treat this as a contractual joining of lives. We put most of our money in a joint account that we have equal access to. You keep your old account on your own for your peace of mind, and beef it up with some of our shared funds so you know you have an escape route if you need one. But we both get paid in the joint account, and make financial decisions together.”

That was… reasonable.

Since we were sharing lives.

It wasn’t my ideal, though.

“I’d rather split the bills,” I said.

“Splitting bills would lead to resentment for you and guilt for me. Our incomes are extremely uneven, and I would always have more money than you,” he said bluntly. “We’re not doing it. If we’re sharing lives, we’re sharing money equally.”

He had a point.

I wasn’t really the kind of person who could just ignore a big red flag like that. It would irritate me if he bought a nice car when I couldn’t afford one, or ordered us an expensive dinner and didn’t let me contribute.

So… he was right.

Sharing an account was the only way to approach it without creating arguments or unhappiness.

“Alright, you win.”

Eli’s lips curved upward. “Wow. Those are three words I never expected to hear from you.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not completely unreasonable.”

“I never said you were. Just stubborn. Which is a sexy trait, for the record. I like your stubbornness.”

“You’re only allowed to like it during heat,” I said, lowering my eyes back to the start of my cupcake batter.

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