Page 87 of Falling in Love with A Tiny Bat

However, I do not believe I would ever recover from the experience, so no.

I scowl. “I dislike your tone. Don’t make me demote you back tobabysitterwhen I’ve just begun considering you as a marriage candidate.”

A smooth smile slips across his lips. “Daddies aren’tbabysitters, snowflake. That’s your human upbringing talking.”

“Listen very closely,” I hiss, “therankinggoes: live-in nuisance, babysitter, potential romance candidate, plausible husband candidate, lifelong soulmate, father of my child. Quit trying to leapfrog the skilltree.”

“Leapfrogging the skilltree sounds very fun, though.”

Huffing, I say, “Do you want to play video games with me?”

Alexios’s brows rise. “What?”

“I think my question was immaculately clear. Would you, Alexios Vox, like to come downstairs, cuddle on the couch to spite both our reasons for touch aversion, play video games, and see who breaks first?”

Heat swells in his cheeks. “I…I would enjoy that. Very much.”

“Great.” I turn on my heel. “I’ll get snacks. You’ve not eaten today, have you?”

He whispers, “It was a trap…”

“Of course it was. Don’t be stupid.” Throwing a look back at him, I arch a brow. “Which protein shake can you tolerate right now?”

Slumping, he mutters, “Chocolate…I’ll make it.”

“You will not.”

His nose scrunches as he drags himself out of bed. “What if you poison it?”

“Adding extra veggiesoncedoes not count aspoisoningyour protein shakes, Xios.”

“Because veggies probably taste worse than poison?” he mumbles as he reaches me by the door, looking down at me in a coolly perturbed fashion.

I meet his gaze squarely, forcing his attention to skid off my eyes. “Grab the baby monitor from your room. And pick the game you want to play.”

His gaze slinks back to me. “Fine. On one condition: donotadulterate my protein shake.”

“Iwon’t,” I grumble and turn on my heel, exiting my bedroom. “Unless I feel like it.”

“Zahra.”

“We need to start testing you with smoothies. If we can get you on a more well-rounded liquid diet, that would be great.What ifI make you a smoothie to go with your protein shake? Would you try it?”

He leans in the doorway. “Will it be green?”

“Does color matter? It doesn’t affect the taste or texture.”

“Truly appalling that you believe that.”

Freeing a deep sigh, I mutter, “What colors are acceptable?”

“Clear.”

“Clear isn’t a color.”

“Not green. And no seeds.”

I know I’m not about to strain a smoothie through a cheese cloth for this man.

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