“Ugh.” I flopped my head to one side. “I hate that word.”
Feel.
Blech.
A soft crease at the corners of his eyes told me my joke had landed without hurting him, which meant I was getting better at this relationship thing. But the lift of his eyebrows told me I wasn’t off the hook.
“It feels more authentic,” I decided. “What do you think about me downgrading my classification?”
“You’re not upholding your old reputation. You’re carving out a new one. I fully support that.” His lips tipped up at one corner. “Based on tonight’s events, I would say our coworkers are as afraid of you as ever. I don’t think you have to worry on that score either.”
Had the stink radiating off the pendant not tricked the noses of the people who ran in my circles early in my career, I would have been outed on the spot. They would have known I had changed, even if they couldn’t tell how. That wiggle room was what got people in trouble. Was I weaker? Stronger? Deadlier?
Too often, they bowed to their predatory instincts. They chose to test me, and then they paid the price.
“You’re so sweet.” I kissed his cheek. “Every girl dreams of being the monster under the bed.”
“I would prefer to be the monster in your bed.”
“You’re not a monster. You’re too cuddly for that.”
Which he proved after we gorged on fig and goat cheese pizza then passed out in a tangle of limbs.