Warrior Fae Trapped (Warrior Fae #1)(66)

“No, elf-made…”

“I doubt elves eat brownies. But from scratch, I mean?”

“Oh yeah.” She scratched her chin as a troubled expression crossed her face. “I forgot elves were real.” She applied pressure to the box against his chest. “Yes, from scratch.”

He took the box. “How’d you know I like brownies? Are you secretly pining after me? You are, aren’t you? You’re stalking me.”

Charity huffed, but a smile tweaked her lips. “You eat them constantly—how could I not know? It’s the only snack you have in the cupboards. I find crumbs all over the kitchen. Which is annoying, by the way. You’re lucky it’s your house, or I’d be all over you to clean up after yourself.”

He huffed out a laugh, and warmth glowed in his chest. It was such a small thing, someone noticing his snacks, but he hadn’t been looked after in a long time. His mother had lost interest in him as he approached puberty—most likely because she’d suspected what would happen—and his dad had worked all the time. His friends had been tough guys, and the girls in his life had been shallow conquests. No one had really valued him as anything other than a functioning pack mate or a good time. No one had been around to notice what made him tick. It was kind of nice.

A memory wiped the smile off his face.

When she’d curled up into his arms last night, afraid and looking for safety, a deep throb had pulsed through his body. He’d felt powerful in the role of protector, something the alpha in him craved. It was what had made his thoughts stray all day. It was why he might’ve been avoiding her, just a little.

This morning’s unspoken challenge hadn’t helped. In her fiery gaze, he’d seen the girl who had taken on an elder and lived to tell the tale. Her magic had pulsed within her, filling the room, singeing his skin. He’d longed to run at it. To take her hand and sprint into battle. This was what Roger had been talking about, Devon knew. Their magic belonged together. He felt it.

He liked it.

He didn’t need the distraction of any of this.

“Uh-oh,” she said, as though talking to herself. She dropped pasta into the cart, crossed it off her list, and wandered on. “Back to grumpy and brooding, I see. Well…” She sighed and stopped in front of the canned tomatoes. “The fun and easygoing Devon was nice while it lasted.” She chewed on her plump lip. “I’m sorry about last night too, by the way.”

He froze, half wondering if he’d been muttering out loud.

“I didn’t mean to interfere with Yasmine,” she finished, and wandered to the next aisle.

He released a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

“You didn’t ruin anything. Just prolonged the inevitable. Don’t worry. It won’t last. They never do.”

She shrugged, then reached up on tiptoes to the top shelf for her horrible oatmeal. Devon leaned over her to grab the package and toss it in the cart.

“I wasn’t worried. I just don’t want to step on your toes.”

“Well I don’t think you have to worry about girls hanging around.” He poked a box of cereal, needing a little violence to go with this conversation. “I’m not that kinda guy.”

“That’s because you go after the wrong type of women.”

“Is that right?”

“This must be one of those things that’s obvious to everyone else but the person involved. You go after women who are very pretty.” She held up her hand. “I’m not blaming you. If I were a guy and Yasmine came on to me, I’d definitely hit that. The girl is freaking hot. But I bet the girls you…date aren’t as smart or interesting as you, so you get bored after the sex. Find a girl that has more to offer, one that’s looking for more than a hot guy with a hot bod—or in Yasmine’s case, an alpha with potential—and you might have more luck.”

“I don’t want more luck. I’m good with just the sex.”

Charity shrugged. “There you go, then. You’re all set. But please keep the noise low, because I can’t sleep very well these days. Oh, I should get earplugs just in case.”

Devon stopped in the middle of the aisle and blinked dazedly. “Did you just compliment me on my appearance and body, give me a verbal high five for being a slut, ask me to have quiet sex, and then opt for earplugs assuming I probably wouldn’t? Did all that come out of your mouth within the space of thirty seconds?” He narrowed his eyes. “You are a girl, right? Because usually girls are not this cool.”

“They are when they have no interest in getting you naked.” Charity laughed. “I’m being logical. Like I said, pick different women, and you might enjoy a conversation once in a while.”

After venturing up and down another few aisles, they approached the checkout line with a cart full of food.

“Where did you learn martial arts, by the way?” he asked as she stalled in choosing a line.

She looked down her list, her forehead showing worry lines. “I got lessons at a dojo close to my house growing up.”

“How’d you pay for it?”

“I didn’t. At first I hung around outside the windows and tried to see what was going on. When I got caught, the sensei said I could act as a janitor in exchange for standing in the back. I was about twelve. That was obviously a great deal for me, so I worked hard for them. It turned out I had—have, I guess—a certain affinity for martial arts, so when I started learning faster than anyone else, he paid more attention to me. Eventually he passed me around to others in the community so I could learn different styles.” She lowered her list and looked over the heaping cart, her worry growing. “This is too much, Devon.”