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“And then you moved into the cottage?” she asks.

“The girl I lived with back then first said she needed time to adjust. I understood, of course. I also needed time to adjust. But she barely looked at me, and then she threw me out. Said I was a freak, and she couldn’t bear to have me in the house. The lease was in her name, so I couldn’t do anything but leave.”

“That’s horrible.”

I shrug. “That’s life.”

“No, it’s horrible. You didn’t choose what happened to you, Otis.” She shakes her head in disbelief, and I’m kind of flattered she’s angry on my behalf.

“I stayed with a friend at first, then found somewhere else to live. But I never really settled anywhere. Then I remembered the cottage had been empty for years. I knew the owner never came to Screaming Woods, so I moved in.”

“And then I arrived and told you to leave,” she says.

I nod. “Yeah.”

She puts her pizza down. “Maybe I reacted too strongly.”

“You reacted in a normal way, Romy. No one in their right mind would volunteer to let a stranger live in their new house, and definitely not a minotaur.”

“I’m kind of getting used to having you around. I definitely liked sitting on the counter while you kissed me,” she adds, blushing.

“I could do more than that,” I say without thinking.

She arches an eyebrow and gives me a challenging look. “Then why don’t you?”

I grit my teeth. Romy’s right. Why don’t I? Because I don’t want her breaking my heart? Maybe that’s a ridiculous reason. But wanting her feels too damn good to keep pretending otherwise.

And if she does end up hurting me, maybe that’s a risk I’m willing to take. Because right now, the thought of never finding out what could happen between us feels a hell of a lot worse.

I signal the server. “Check, please.”

Chapter Nine

Romy

I barely register what happens on the ride back to the cottage because I’m too busy replaying the moment Otis asked for the check.

My arms are wrapped tightly around his waist, and my heart hammers in my chest. I challenged him to do more than kiss me, so I should expect things to heat up as soon as we arrive home. I’ve imagined ripping his clothes off more times than I’m willing to admit, but by the time Otis turns onto Turnip’s End, I’m a ball of nerves. Imagining something and actually doing it are two different things, after all.

Otis parks his bike beside the shed and switches off the engine. I let go of him and climb off the bike, then take off my helmet and run my fingers through my hair.

“We’re home,” I say, my voice sounding like someone else’s.

“You can still say no, Romy,” he answers.

He steps closer, takes my helmet, and sets it on his bike before running a finger over my jaw. The tip hooks my lower lip, and he leans in to kiss me.

He’s making it very, very hard to say no. He must know I can’t resist him. I grab the front of his jacket and pull him closer, kissing him until we’re both breathless.

“Is that enough of an answer for you?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “You absolutely sure about this, Romy? I don’t know if I’ll be able to hold back once we go into the house and get you out of those clothes. I’ve never… Not since the transformation.”

“So what are you saying? That you might be a monster between the sheets? I can handle it,” I say and head toward the house.

I know he’s looking at my ass as I walk away. I also know that I’m acting way tougher than I feel, but I do want this to happen.

When I arrived in Screaming Woods, I thought he was insufferable, but we’ve both gotten used to having each other around. And yes, sometimes I lie awake at night listening to him moving around the cottage, finding it strangely soothing.