Page 43 of Entering a New World

Dead. I was dead, my heart melting on the spot.

“Don’t worry. I don’t eat meat often, but I like it once in a while.”

Rhett released a shaky breath, his smile widening. “That’s good to hear because I love a good steak. And… uhm… people like me tend to eat a lot of meat.”

I nodded. That made sense, right? He was part wolf. Wolves were carnivores, so he was part carnivore. Humans might be omnivores, but that made him half omnivore-half carnivore, so his body requiring more meat was a logical consequence.

Or was I getting it all wrong because I was trying to explain magic with science? Was shifting magic? It had to be, right?

I’d need to ask Rhett about it as soon as we were out of earshot because just this moment, the professor—the one Mave thought might be looking for shifters here—emerged from the dining room and gave me a short wave.

“Good evening, Levi,” he greeted, then turned his attention to Rhett. His eyes widened for a second, but then his features smoothed out, leaving a polite mask in place. “Good evening.”

Rhett nodded. “Hi.”

He didn’t introduce himself and, quite frankly, he didn’t need to, because I was pulling him out the door a second later.

This was our first date, and I didn’t want to spend it listening to my mate and the professor chit-chatting about old legends, even though the topic was interesting and maybe even kind of relevant to me now that I knew about shifters.

But not today, and especially not if I could get first-hand information from my mate.

The steakhouse was a lot more modern than I’d expected. The stone walls painted a bright, clean white, a stark contrast to the dark wooden floors and furniture. White candles in cast iron chandeliers adorned each table and garnered the white walls, though I was ninety-nine percent sure the candles in the chandeliers on the wall were fake ones. And the candles hanging from the ceiling in some kind of web that featured empty wine bottles, too, were definitely fake, but the whole construction looked impressive, nonetheless.

“It’s beautiful,” I told Rhett, as we followed the server to our table. And it truly was. The whole place held an air of sophistication, but managed it in a way that didn’t feel snobby.

People were talking and laughing animatedly, yet it wasn’t loud, as if the interior was designed to swallow the sound.

“I have to agree,” Rhett said.

As the server came to a halt at a table in the back corner of the restaurant, Rhett took over and pulled the chair out for me like it was just common courtesy. No one had ever done something like this, especially with so much nonchalance, like it was just a normal thing to do and not something he needed some kind of praise or appreciative gesture for. My heart somersaulted, my pulse kicking up a notch.

He didn’t want recognition for it, but I had definitely noticed. Just like I’d noticed him holding the door open for me.

“Thank you,” I said, my voice sounding a little breathy and raspy.

Rhett’s cheeks flushed again, and he ducked his head before rounding the table and sitting down across from me. “You’re welcome.”

We took the menus off the server and listened politely while he told us his name—Oliver—and that he’d be back in a couple of minutes to take our drink order.

“Have you been here before?” I asked. I let my gaze wander through the room, my eyes catching on to a lot of small decorative elements that told me the person who’d been responsible for the interior design had known exactly what he’d been doing.

If this wasn’t a first date, and I was currently still vlogging and posting on Social Media, I’d have a blast taking pictures of this place.

“A couple times,” Rhett answered. He opened his menu, face taking on a thoughtful look. “But they’ve redecorated since the last time I’ve been here. Then again, that was probably a year ago. Gray likes to come here on his birthday, and that’s in three weeks.”

I nodded, then studied my own card, trying to find something to drink that wasn’t Coke, but not alcohol either. I wasn’t big on wine—or beer for that matter—and the restaurant didn’t really scream cocktail bar to me.

In the end, I settled on a homemade lemonade with salal berries, mint, and lemon, while Rhett ordered a craft beer for himself.

“Soo…” I started quietly, remembering my theory about him liking meat and the questions that had arisen from my theory. “Can I ask you about… you know… here?”

Rhett let out a low laugh. “We have to be careful, but yes, you can. There’s no one sitting close enough to listen in to our conversation, and if anyone can, it’s because they’re paranormals themselves, and I highly doubt anything you could ask me is news to them.”

I nodded. “I don’t want to spend the whole evening talking about you being a shifter, so please stop me if it gets to be too much,” I told him, worrying my lip. “But I’m really curious and the questions just keep piling up.”

“So, hit me.” Rhett winked. “I can handle whatever you’re throwing at me.”

Was he flirting?

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