Page 38 of Oh, Sacred Dark
Optimism bubbled and fizzed in his stomach. Every little thing that made Roman happy, Tyler would find and offer up like gems.
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Tyler realised during grocery shopping for their meal that not only did Tyler not have Roman’s number, but Roman didn’t have a phoneat all.
It was another embarrassing oversight in a long line of embarrassing oversights.
He set Roman up on his plan, getting him the newer model of Tyler’s phone.
He should have known that wouldn’t sit well with Roman.
“This is new,” Roman said, staring at the phone as if it were venomous.
Tyler wanted to lie—tell him it was on discount or that the coven covered it, but something stopped him. Even if it was to protect Roman, he didn’t think misinformation was a road to go down. “Everybody should have a phone, Roman—for safety, at the very least. I’ve programmed Dr Elise’s, Connie’s, and my number in there. You can contact any one of us, at any time, for anything.”
Roman seemed frozen in indecision, warring internally, and Tyler cut whatever thoughts were clawing at him.
“Let’s go to mine, yeah? I’ve got all the stuff, and we can get cooking.”
Tyler hustled Roman out of there before he could protest further, braving the windy May night and walking to Tyler’s cottage.
There was something calming about seeing Roman in his space, like it was the only place Tyler could keep him safe. It was a dumb Dom instinct, but, well…Tyler was kind of a dumb Dom.
The recipe sounded a little weird—a salmon roast with potatoes, whole tomatoes, and onion in an orange sauce. Like the previous day, Roman waited for Tyler to lead, but all Tyler could say was, “I’m the cook, you’re the chef. You tell me what to do, and I do it, okay?”
Roman, usually so stoic, looked distinctly uncomfortable, hands clenching and unclenching by his sides. Tyler fought not to react, not to succumb to the impulse to yank away the source of anxiety—it wouldn’t do any good to take a leading role in this.
“Uhm…maybe we can peel the potatoes first?” Roman suggested.
“Sounds good. Shit, I only have one peeler…but I can use a knife. Bet you I can peel it all in one go—can’t do that with a peeler, can you?” Tyler didn’t know if the cheer was coming off as a little forced—he usually wasn’t so talkative—but Roman didn’t tense further, which was a plus.
They set everything out, Tyler failing immediately at cutting a single peel.
“Damn. Well, that didn’t work.” He grinned wryly at Roman.
Roman eyed him tentatively. “It’s okay. Do you want the peeler?”
“Nah, I’ll stick with this. Where did you find this recipe, anyway?”
“Oh. Uhm…there was a Spanish sub in my old coven. She showed me how to make it,” Roman replied.
“Were you two friends?” Tyler asked as casually as he could manage.
“She…not really.”
There was obviously a story there, but Tyler wasn’t going to pry. “Ah, well, it’s cool that you learnt this recipe from her at least.”
Roman nodded.
“We’re probably totally spoilt in this coven with the Main House feeding us all. Now we’re a bunch of adults who can’t cook, which is pretty embarrassing,” Tyler admitted.
“You can do other things. My old coven didn’t garden. And you repair things too, right?”
Tyler paused for a second, surprised Roman was asking him a question for once. “Yeah—although that’s just part of Transforming Magic.”
Roman frowned. “I didn’t know anybody with Transforming Magic who used it to repair things. It’s different from forming new shapes, isn’t it?”
Tyler nodded slowly. “Yeah, I guess it is.” He’d learnt both those things simultaneously—repairing because it was necessary if he wanted to help the coven, and forming as part of his job. They were two different applications of the magic, though—bending to the will of an object while fixing it, versus being in complete control while forming.
