Page 49 of Finding Her
Mykie tugged on her heavy knee-high leather boots and gave us a finger wave before stomping down the hallway and out the door. She had a way of carrying herself aggressively, even when calm. Thankfully, Faeryn had adapted to her behavioral quirks quickly. I hoped they would become close with time. Mykie was my best friend. Faeryn was the breath in my lungs, the blood pumping through my heart, and the fire in my core. I needed them to enjoy each other's company, eventually.
Stress bubbled up inside my chest. To release it, I cast another round of flames into the brick as casually as possible. I wasn’t sure if she had caught on to how linked my emotions were to my fire. When antagonized, they would spark a burning sting through my hands, cramping my fingers if left unaddressed. It was a feeling most adult Pyrans had learned to manage, but I had become resensitized after what happened all those years ago. The discomfort was a humbling reminder of my neuroticism, and I found myself struggling to repress it. My lack of control over my biology’s blood gift was frankly embarrassing.
“It’s lovely how you’re able to do that.” Her voice broke through my mental cloud.
Faeryn had been withholding pleasantries as of late, and I missed them greatly. I wanted to tell hereverything. Before Faeryn came downstairs, I’d been monologuing about it to Mykie. She was talking about “Earth” less, so maybe there was hope. If I confessed, that would explain my flaws and have her accept me as a mate… maybe. Mykie had been cautiously supportive, but as with every other time, I talked myself out of it for Faeryn’s sake.
“It’s genetics, my dear.” Not my most appreciative response, but my thoughts were too turbulent to find the words “thank you”.
“Better than my genetics.”
I begged to differ, but I bit my tongue. That topic was certainly off limits. “Do you want to hear how my conversation with Theo went?” Having come home from my shift during her bath, I was eager to share what scrap of good news I had to offer her.
Theo had, as with many instances before, disappeared on a hiking excursion the same day I’d promised Faeryn I would put in a good word for her. These trips were unpredictable; there was no reason at the time for me to think he would be entirely absent for the first half of winter. She was rightfully suspicious when I told her he was gone and might not be back for an indeterminate amount of time. Of course, I had no way to convince her of my sincerity.
“He’s back!” She jumped to the edge of her seat and beamed. “Yes, tell me. I’m dying to know.”Adorable.
“He said he was in need of a new bartender and asked if you could start tomorrow.” She was practically bouncing up and down. “I told him that I was sure you’d be thrilled to.”
And I had been correct.
“So thrilled!”
Her smile suddenly faded, and a wave of seriousness extinguished her glee.
“What’s wrong?” My mind raced. Had I not played this perfectly? I lined up both social activitiesanda job for her. What could possibly be interfering with her happiness now? I had to fix it, I had to make that smile come back, I had to—
“Graysen, I don’t know the first thing about alcohol on this planet.” She bit the side of her lip and squinted her eyes apologetically. I relaxed immediately. Of course, that was her concern. As if I didn’t already know inexperience would be at play. I was certain Theo wouldn’t mind.
“You’ll learn.” I smiled reassuringly. I would say anything to return to her unadulterated exuberance. I’d been starved of it forfartoo long.
“I’m worried I’ll out myself as, well, not being from here. I don’t even know the basic terminology for Trebianna’s alcohol.”
Nowthatwas a problem. It was difficult to constantly predict what was and wasn’t congruent with her memories from “Earth”. There was obvious overlap that I relied on more than I should. This could draw attention.
“It sounds like you need a crash course in the safety of your own home.” Of course, I would make sure she was as confident and prepared as possible. My cabinets contained enough to get us through a rudimentary course. “How about I make dinner, and we hold an introductory bartending lesson afterwards?”
Hope filled my core when her eyes crinkled with a genuine smile. “I’d really enjoy that.”
“Alright, first you should learn something simple and tasteful,” I stated, eyes scanning the assortment of tools, garnish, and liquids before us. “Grab the pink. It’s called Roseus.” I pointed to a thick orange liquid. “And that, it’s called Starmise.”
Faeryn was a vision in her knee-length, misty blue linen dress. The straps over her shoulders tied into bows, taking up the space where her hair would normally fall. In preparation for our activities, she had wrapped her tresses into a loose knot on the back of her head, with a strand or two escaping the hold to frame her face. She tiptoed barefoot, back and forth across the length of the counter to follow my instructions and familiarize herself with the layout.
“Now you want approximately two-thirds Starmise on the bottom, and one-third Roseus on top.” Her pours were confident, a quality that would do her well when attempting to blend in. “Perfect. Now, a sprinkle of Vivina spice on top.” I handed her a small ceramic jar. “And garnish with a petal.” I nodded my head to the dish of petals in front of her.
“Did I do it?” She held the pretty drink in her palm, rotating the glass and inspecting it with inquisitive eyes.
I was sure I couldn’t have done better myself, but greedily took a confirmatory taste of her work regardless. “You’re a natural.” I grinned approvingly and licked the sweet and salty taste from my lips.
She gave it a sniff before testing it herself, likely reacting to the memory of her first Drooler. This drink smelled like working outside on a spring day, not a mechanic’s waste bin. A secondsip accompanied by a smile confirmed that she enjoyed the beverage.
“Pleased?”
“It’s delicious.” She took a confident gulp.
“It’s Rouge Inamorata. Rouge for short. If you’d like to know why, just look at your reflection.” I directed her to the mirror around the corner of the hallway. The drink was popular among individuals who enjoyed cosmetics; it provided a deep pink tint to the lips of those drinking it. That’s why I’d been so careful to lick my lips clean from its traces; I didn’t find pink to be my color.
“How does that happen?” I watched a sliver of her admiring herself from where I stood. Feeling rather left out, I made my way to her side.
