15. CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

ODETTE

I spend the rest of the night and all the next workday in a daze.

Yesterday, I was disappointed Chente didn't stop by at lunch.

Today, I'm… confused .

I try to keep myself busy so that I don't overthink.

But that's not really where I shine.

So, of course, I obsess over what Shai told me—alternating between blowing it out of proportion and acting like it's no big deal.

And maybe it's not.

Maybe ‘cuintahte' translates as ‘mate' but is more akin to ‘sweetheart'.

Or maybe…maybe Chente has deeper feelings for me, much deeper than I realize.

By nearly five o'clock, I've worked myself into a proper state, and I force myself to calm down.

Stress, even as benign as this, will only make my symptoms worse.

Luckily, a late patron distracts me, and I help them find books for a project they're doing.

The front door dings just as I finish checking out the last book.

Chente smiles as he opens the door for the other patron to leave.

Then he flicks the lock, sealing us inside the library, just the two of us and my relentless sea of thoughts.

The wonder and worry are nearly incapacitating, but I pretend like nothing's wrong.

Just play it cool.

Again, not really my strong suit. The more out of place I feel, the more I overcompensate.

I know I can be witty and charming, but no one ever really gets to see that side of me.

Usually, I'm too worried about how to fit in to just be myself.

Turning off my computer, I greet Chente with a tentative smile.

"Everything alright? You look tired?"

And, of course, this gorgeous green monster would notice.

"I didn't sleep well."

"Should we take a break so you can get home to rest?"

It's an out, but the truth is, I want to spend time with Chente.

"No! In a few more lessons, you'll be reading basic words. Let's not stop now."

"I don't want you to be in pain, though."

"I'm not. I promise."

Chente squints at me, the reptilian slit of his eyes nearly disappearing in the red glow of his gaze.

"Ok…if you're sure."

"Hundred percent. Come on."

We go back to the same place from last night. Like the gentleman Chente is, he moves a chair for me to wheel up to the table.

"Thank you."

"Of course. So what does my beautiful teacher have in store for me today?"

"More letters!"

First, we review last night's lesson before I teach him six new sounds.

Chente is smart, and quickly masters them before I propose something new.

Reaching across the table, I pick up a book of fairytales.

He stares at it, one long, dark claw tapping on the tabletop.

"I don't think I'm ready for that, Odette," he finally admits in a soft voice.

"Oh, it's for me to read to you, actually. One of the reasons it's important to read to children is because it helps them to track the letters and words and build reading comprehension. Is that alright?"

"Of course. I grew up listening to stories—it's one of my fondest memories from home."

"Well, I need you to pay attention and follow the words with me, though."

He nods, and I pick the familiar story of a princess and her frog prince.

When I finish the beginner book, Chente laughs.

"I didn't know human women thought so highly of something green and warty."

"You're not warty."

"Nah, just scaly, but I have it on good authority that most humans don't like that, either. So would you kiss a frog if you knew it would turn into Prince Charming?"

"Who's to say I don't want the frog, instead?"

Chente beams me a bright smile.

"You're different than other humans."

I chuckle, shaking my head. "Nah, you just haven't met those like me. Trust me, we have a whole community."

"Really? You got a name?"

Yep, monsterfuckers— but I'm not telling him that .

"Erm, nope. Do you have any questions?"

I turn the topic quickly but Chente doesn't seem to mind.

"No, just a request—can you read another?"

"Story?"

"Yeah, but this time, I would just like to listen."

My heart pangs when I realize it's something he misses from home.

"Sure. How about ‘The Twelve Dancing Princesses'?"

"No frogs?"

"Not in this one."

"Do any of these have tales about monsters?"

"Some, but they aren't portrayed very nicely. They're usually the bad guys. But I have a monster folklore book that's supposed to be returned tomorrow that I can read."

"Sounds good. Ok, ‘The Twelve Dancing Princesses' it is."

To my surprise—and secret delight—Chente pulls his chair even closer to me, nearly resting his head against my shoulder as I start.

There's a euphoric expression on his face as he listens, and I'm so glad to be part of this moment with him.

When I finish, I quietly shut the book, trying not to break the spell woven around us.

"Chente…" I begin, hesitant but determined to ask him about the word ‘cuintahte'.

Before I can form the words, he captures my mouth in a searing kiss, effectively driving every thought from my head.

By the time he pulls back, I can barely remember my own name.

He presses his forehead to mine, the first spike in a line of them that runs down his back brushing against my hair.

I wore it in a loose braid today, attempting to be professional yet stylish.

The spike isn't nearly as hard as I expected it to be, and without thinking, I reach up and stroke a finger down the side.

Chente groans, dropping out of his seat, sprawling at my feet with a dazed expression.

"Oh no, are you alright?"

It looks like he's gasping for breath, and I'm worried he's having a panic attack or something similar.

"F-fine," he manages to grit out.

When I reach to touch him, his tail lashes out to catch my wrist.

The prehensile length wraps around me, light as a feather but strong as steel.

"Wait. Don't touch me. Give me a minute to control myself."

I tremble in worry and awareness—worry that I've done something wrong and awareness of his tail pressing into my arm with familiarity.

Time creeps by slowly, but Chente eventually gets up off the floor and resettles himself in the chair next to me.

He moves it a distance away, and only then releases my wrist.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I thought I was in control—I am in control—but when you touched my espirasca...I lost it a bit. Espirascas are very sensitive, but this doesn't excuse my behavior. Please forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive, Chente. It was my fault for touching you somewhere so…intimate. I-I didn't realize."

"You understand that my reaction wasn't one of upset. I liked your touch—too much, in fact. Usually, only mates touch another's espirascas."

"Oh!"

"Do humans not have anything like this?"

"Not nearly as sensitive, but everyone is different. Of course, private parts on both men and women are erogenous zones, but less conspicuous places are the neck, the ears, and even the feet for some people. Like I said, it differs from person to person."

"And for you?"

"Um…for sure my neck, ear, and maybe…my wrist."

We both look down to where his tail once encircled me, and Chente muffles another groan.

"I think we should call it a night."

"Ok."

The two of us lapse into silence as we clean up the table and turn off the lights.

Like always, Chente makes sure I'm in my car, but when it's time to go, I can't make myself ask the question consuming my very being.

Instead, I drive away, disappointed in myself because I'm terrified of what his answer might be.

This goes on for nearly two weeks. Each night, he gifts me with a monster coin, but none as rare or special as the chivo or ope.

I love spending time with him, but I'm also nowhere closer to asking my question than I was when I first found out.

Finally, in the darkness of my room, I admit why I'm so scared.

Because I might be in love with Chente and can't bear it if he doesn't see me really as his mate.