Page 23 of The Teddy Bear's Prize

“Okay.”

“Okay?” She looks back at me.

“I will chase you whenever you want me to, if it will make you happy,” I smile, watching her cheeks turn that lovely shade of pink, remembering how it crept down over her breasts last night until it covered most of her body, “I know better than anyone there is a thin line between fear and arousal.”

Her lips part with a sharp intake of breath, eyes drifting down my chest to where I hold her hand against my skin.

From the look in her eyes, I half expect her to break into a sprint. The idea alone is making my thoughts fuzzy to the point I am almost salivating at the prospect of it all, the mix of her emotions, sweet and tart, against my tongue as she comes apart beneath me.

Her phone chimes a warning, and she moves her hand to grab it from the bedside table, “We can talk more about that later,” Her voice is an octave lower than usual, “I need to get some coffee and get ready for work.”

Mia climbs out of the bed and walks into the bathroom. I get up and pull on a pair of jeans that she bought yesterday and a black shirt. She walks past, dipping into the closet and a few seconds later coming out with a dark purple shirt and a fresh pair of black pants.

I follow her out into the kitchen, watching as she grabstwo mugs from the cabinet, setting them out on the countertop.

“Can you teach me?” I ask.

She looks over her shoulder, “How to make coffee?”

“I want to learn.”

“Okay.”

It always struck me how unique mortals are, especially when walking from one dream to the other. Their fears and enjoyment vary wildly, one happy moment might be torture to another. I didn’t realize that it stretched to every task, even the most mundane.

She walks me through how she makes her morning coffee. First, washing the electric kettle and filling it to the second line before setting it on the base and plugging it in.

It begins bubbling and hissing almost immediately as she turns and opens the cabinet, pulling out a thick canister of coffee.

“I like instant,” she says, placing her hand on the tin, “Erika had this fancy coffee machine and a little grinder when she lived here, and I admit freshly ground coffee tastes so much better,” Mia opens it and inhales, then offers it to me.

The smell is earthy and smokey with a hint of sweetness underneath that lingers there in my senses after she pulls it away.

“It just reminds me of summers with my grandma down in Oklahoma,” she explains, “when things weren’t that great between my mom and dad.” She looks back at me, brightening, “But in the morning, my grandma would make me ‘southern coffee’ like her mom used to make. It took me a couple years to realize that it was just mostly milk and sugar with enough instant coffee to make it that light tan color.”

I’m almost envious of the joy that the memory inspiresand how she shines even brighter when she’s thinking about those summers.

“It sounds nice.” I incline my head, stepping closer to her.

Mia smiles up at me, “Do you have any memories like that?”

Only these moments that I get to spend with you.

But I don’t say that. “Nothing comes to mind.”

“Oh, speaking of Erika, she’s having a Thanksgiving thing this weekend since they’re going out of town. You could come with, if you’re still here,” as soon as the words fall from her lips, her expression falls.

The gravity of it settles over my chest, the unspoken truth between us. I almost forgot that I was a stranger here, that I do not fit. I was just beginning to feel?—

The kettle clicks and the rumbling water calms. She adds two spoonfuls of coffee crystals into the cups and pours the hot water over them, adding sugar and the creamer from the fridge that smells like her.

“I would like that,” I say, taking a mug.

“Good,” Mia smiles at me, “So, since witches exist, does that mean there are other supernatural creatures as well? Like, vampires, for instance.”

“Vampires exist. They’re half demons, the first species born here in the mortal realm through the use of magic.”

She watches me, her lips parted, “What else? Werewolves? Shifters? Fairies?”

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