Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“What do you want to drink?” I asked.
“Can you make a tequila sunrise?”
“I can make you whatever you want,” I said with a grin that had him blushing again.
Chapter 21
Unwind
Blake
Xavier was making me feel all kinds of things.
Shyness, happiness, an electric thrill, a delicious buzz. He also gave me a confidence I didn’t quite have before I met him. I wasn’t second-guessing everything I said or did. I didn’t replay conversations over and over again in my head, wondering if I was too awkward or said something odd. With Xavier, it just was. I could be myself around him.
That was really refreshing.
Plus, it didn’t hurt that the man was off-the-charts hot. Normally, that would have had me fumbling for words, but not with Xavier. I thought back to our kiss. How natural it had felt. I wanted more. I had felt the kind of butterflies in my stomach that I presumed were very much extinct. Maybe it was because I’d closed myself off after my stalker, or maybe it was just because no one like Xavier had crossed paths with me yet.
“What do you want to drink?” Xavier asked. He stepped around the bar. He looked casual in a dark gray V-neck shirt and black shorts. A thin golden necklace caught the light of the flickering gas lamps.
“I’ll have a tequila sunrise, please.”
“You got it.” He grabbed a jet-black bottle off the shelf behind him. He took off the metallic red cap. His fingers, for being so large, moved quite nimbly.
I watched him mix the drink with practiced ease, mesmerized by the way he moved. There was something incredibly captivating about Xavier, a blend of raw strength and gentle care that made me feel safe and excited all at once.
As he mixed the tequila sunrise, the room around us seemed to blur into the background, leaving just the two of us in a bubble of shared energy. His movements were precise and smooth, each action deliberate. He poured the tequila, added the orange juice, and finished with a splash of grenadine, the colors blending beautifully in the clear glass.
“What about you?” I asked, genuinely curious. “What’s your drink of choice?”
Xavier smiled, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “I’m a simple guy. Whiskey, neat.”
He poured himself a glass of rich amber liquid and lifted it in a silent toast. I raised my tequila sunrise in response, the clink of our glasses sounding loud in the intimate setting of the speakeasy.
“To new experiences,” he said, his voice low and warm.
“To new experiences,” I echoed.
We sipped our drinks in comfortable silence, the flickering gas lamps casting dancing shadows on the walls. He came around the bar and took a seat on the purple velvet stool next to me.
“So,” I said, breaking the silence, “I’ve been thinking… if you had a choice to use the dagger, what would you use it for?”
He paused, considering the question. “I don’t quite know,” he admitted. “I think about it too sometimes, but I’m not sure.”
I watched him carefully, sensing there was more beneath the surface. His gaze was distant, as if he was lost in thought. I wondered what went on in that head of his.
“You must have some idea,” I pressed gently, hoping to draw him out.
Xavier sighed, swirling the whiskey in his glass. “There are moments, things in the past that I wish I could change. But I know that tampering too much with time is dangerous. Especially with your own timeline. It’s tempting, sure, but it comes with too many risks.”
I nodded, understanding the weight of his words. The idea of changing the past was a seductive one, but I could see how the consequences could be catastrophic. “I get that. It’s a slippery slope.”
He looked at me. Something swirled in his gaze, but I couldn’t quite place it. His eyes flicked down to my mouth. Back up to my eyes. “Exactly. Something my mother always taught me was that the number one rule to using my time powers: never mess with your own path. It creates an infinite amount of paradoxes. A hundred thousand tangles of possibilities and consequences. I hear it all the time. ‘Oh, I wish I could go back and change this.’ No, you absolutely don’t.”
I took another sip of my drink, intrigued by his perspective. There weren’t many chances to get to talk to a time-manipulating dragon. “Why not?”
“One trickle creates an entire cascade,” he explained. “And then, when you actually open your eyes, you see that the one thing you wanted to change was the one pivotal moment that made you who you are. Next thing you know, you’re aimless and surrounded by a world of consequences you don’t know how to deal with.”
“You’ve thought about this a lot,” I observed.
He nodded. “Yeah, I have. It’s something that comes with the territory, I guess.”