Merman's Kiss (Merman's Kiss, Book 1) Read online

  The doorbell rings.

  My heart quickens. The only person who should be stopping by is Leah. But there’s always the possibility that it could be someone else.

  “Damarian?”

  “Yes?”

  “Someone’s at the door. Um, just in case it’s my uncle or my mom, act natural, okay?”

  His eyebrows come together. “Natural…you wish for me to return to the pool and reacquire my tail?”

  Despite the fear pumping throughout my body, I giggle. “No. I mean, pretend you’re a human. Your name is Damian and you’re my friend. We met on the beach.”

  He slowly nods as he digests my words. “I understand. Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For concealing my secret.”

  I want to hug him, but I just punch his shoulder. “Always.”

  As I head for the door, my knees tremble. Please don’t be Mom. It’s her type to return home early and surprise me, but she’d have a key and wouldn’t ring the doorbell. She’s been known to “misplace” it, though.

  My entire body sags with relief when I see Leah. She holds up some DVDs. “Decided to go with horror tonight,” she says, but then she sees my expression. “What’s wrong?”

  My mouth is shut. I’m too flabbergasted to say anything.

  “Oh my God, you have a guy over.” She bounces on her feet and stretches her neck to get a look into the house. “Do I know him?”

  “Who…” I clear my throat. “Who said I have a guy?”

  She squeals. “You totally have a guy over! This is awesome.” Her gaze suddenly widens as she looks past me.

  I spin around. Damarian is standing in the doorway between the living room and hallway, face curious. And he’s still only wearing a towel.

  When I turn back to Leah, her face is pale and she’s sputtering, “M-m…mer—”

  I quickly shake my head and motion with my eyes for her to keep quiet. Damarian doesn’t know I told her, and I feel so horrible for betraying his trust. But I didn’t know he’d return—how could I have?

  She mouths, “Merman,” her eyes stunned.

  I nod and motion her into the house. She moves in hesitantly, her gaze on Damarian. He looks intrigued, but also wary and terrified. I feel an overwhelming need to protect him, which is stupid because he doesn’t need to be protected from Leah. She’d take his secret to the grave, too.

  “Damian, this is my best friend, Leah.”

  She’s still staring at him in disbelief, but my words must snap her out of it, because she glances at me with amused eyes. “Damian? Huh.”

  I give her a pleading face. I can’t bear the thought of Damarian finding out I betrayed him. I can’t bear the thought that he’d never trust me again, that I’d never see him again.

  “Nice to meet you.” Leah steps forward and stretches out her hand.

  Damarian just stares at it.

  “Right. Handshakes. You don’t do handshakes.” She moves toward me and mutters, “You might want to teach him that.”

  “Shh,” I hiss.

  We all stand there looking at one another.

  After a few moments, Leah backs away toward the door. “So I thought we were having our Girls’ Night In like we usually do on Wednesday nights, but now that I see you have a guest, I’ll just make a quick exit and leave you two to enjoy each other’s company.”

  She heads for the door.

  “Excuse me for a sec,” I say to Damarian and hurry after her. “Leah.”

  She turns around. “Oh my God, he’s back!” She cranes her neck toward the living room. “And he’s so, so hot. I almost forgot how hot he is. Mmmmhmmm.” She smacks her lips.

  She’s making my cheeks, ears, and neck steam. “Leah.”

  “Why did he come back?”

  I bite down on my lip and drop my gaze to the carpet. “Leah…I promised him I wouldn’t tell anyone about him.” I raise my eyes and see a hint of betrayal on her face. “I know we’re best friends and tell each other everything, but he doesn’t know you, so he can’t trust you. Maybe once he gets to know you and trust you, he’ll let me tell you. But for now, you need to pretend that he’s a regular guy.”

  She presses her lips together and folds her arms across her chest, her gaze on anywhere but me. Then she nods. “I totally get it. And I’m cool with it. But.” She holds out her index finger. “I still want details. You know, the non-merman human stuff.”

  “Leah!”

  She laughs. “I’m so happy for you, Cassie. You look so different, so much better. It’s like you were sleeping for the past few months and have finally woken up.”

  I chew on my braid.

  “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

  “But, Leah. He’s a fish.”

  She raises an eyebrow.

  I look back to make sure Damarian’s not there, then lean close to her. “I’m falling for a fish, for a guy who lives in the ocean. I can’t have normal relationships with human guys. What does that say about me? Am I really that screwed up?”

  Her eyes soften. “You’re not screwed up. These things happen. I mean, they don’t really happen, but what I mean is that you and Damar—I mean, Damian—have something special. Different and special. Don’t worry about how not human he is. Something really wonderful is happening to you. He’s a merman, Cass. A merman. Out of everyone in this world, he met you.”

  I swallow.

  “That means something, and if I were you, I’d accept it. Embrace it. And live, because honestly, you really need to start living again.”

  That brings tears to my eyes. I pull her into a hug. “Thanks. I’m just so scared.”

  She pats my back. “I know. But I’m here for you, okay? Talk to me whenever you need to, just not classified information, you know?”

  I laugh.

  She waves and closes the door after her. When I return to the living room, I find Damarian flipping through the channels. For a guy who lives in the ocean, he sure knows how to use our gadgets. I flop down next to him. “Sorry. Leah and I usually hang out Wednesday nights.”

  “Hang out?”

  “Spend time together.”

  He nods. I lean back and watch him search the channels. Nothing seems to interest him, until an image of a coral reef flashes before the screen. His eyes narrow a bit as he scrutinizes the screen. A longing look captures his face.

  “You must really miss home,” I say softly.

  He tears his eyes from the screen and shakes his head. “I have only been on land for a short while.”

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s your second time away from home, right?”

  He nods.

  I grab a couch cushion and pick on a loose thread. “I’ll be leaving home in a few months. For college.”

  His head tilts sideways. “College.”

  “Higher education.”

  His eyes cloud with confusion.

  “You have schools in the ocean? Places that provide kids with an education?”

  “Is that not the responsibility of the parent?”

  I place the cushion behind me and rest my back on it. “Well, yeah. It’s the job of the parents to raise the kids with morals, teach them right and wrong. But when it comes to the hard things, like how to read and write and math and science, trained professionals take over.”

  He leans back, too. “Yes, I have heard that humans have other means of communication in addition to tongue.”

  I reach for one of Mom’s fashion magazines sitting on the coffee table and open to a random page. “Yep. Reading and writing.”

  He takes the magazine from me and studies the images. “Who is this woman?”

  I shrug. “A model. Someone who’s hired to wear these clothes and jewelry and sell them to other people.”

  He nods slowly, his attention still on the magazine. Then his gaze moves to the photos of Mom and me hanging on the walls and in picture frames. “I understand humans have the means to capture their reflection.”

 
I nod. “It’s like seeing your reflection in the water.”

  “Yes.” He focuses on the magazine. “This,” he says, pointing to the words on the page.

  “Yeah, that’s words. Someone writes them and other people read them.”

  “I understand.”

  I smile and take the magazine from him, placing it on the table. Then I look at him. His gaze is on me. I keep my eyes on his for a little bit before they slowly trek to the bottom half of his body—to his towel. I shake my head. “I’m so sorry. You’re probably cold, wearing nothing under there.”

  He glances down at his towel and shrugs. “I am accustomed to not being clothed. And I am afraid it is quite stifling here on land. It is much cooler in the sea.”

  “Your body will get used to it, just like humans get used to the cold water after being in there for a while.”

  He nods.

  Silence.

  I tap my foot on the floor. “Um…so do you want to dress into something or…stay like that?” I nod toward the towel. He might be accustomed to not wear anything, but I sure as heck am not. I don’t know if I can sit here like this when I know he’s got nothing on down there.

  He shrugs again. “I am not familiar with the ways of humans. If I am meant to wear a garment, I shall wear one.”

  “Okay.” I stand. “You should probably take a shower before you dress into your pajamas.”

  “A shower…”

  “I know we just came out of the water, but you need to wash yourself with soap and shampoo so that you get cleaned. We humans get dirty pretty quickly.”

  I bring him to the upstairs bathroom and turn on the shower, showing him how to adjust it to the right setting. “Here’s the soap,” I tell him. “Rub that over your body. And this is shampoo for your hair.” My eyes circle over my strawberry scented shampoo. “Oh…I don’t really have any male shampoos.” I open the cap and sniff it. It smells really girly.

  He leans forward and inhales. “This scent…it is like you. I very much enjoy it.”

  My body grows rigid. The shampoo bottle slips from my hand, but I manage to catch it in time. Shampoo sprays across Damarian’s chest and my hands.

  I bring my mortified gaze to his and am about to apologize, but his eyes are filled with humor. After a second, his lips pull into a grin. My body relaxes and I find myself giggling, small at first. Then it grows louder and louder, making my chest hurt. I’m not sure when I last laughed like this.

  Damarian wraps an arm around my waist and gently hauls me to his chest. I’m so caught off guard that I jerk away. His eyes grow big and he steps back. “Forgive me.” He whips around and touches the water. “I believe the temperature is satisfactory.” His voice is low and bothered.

  Something gets caught in my throat. I swallow a few times. “Okay. I’ll get your pajamas and a towel.”

  “Thank you.”

  When I’m out of the bathroom, I lean back on the wall and breathe in heavily through my nose, letting out the air through my mouth. I didn’t expect him to grab me like that. I’ll admit I liked it—I liked it a lot. I want him to touch me like that again, to touch me more than that, to feel his lips on mine. I wish I hadn’t pulled away.

  I shake the thoughts out and gather his pajamas and a towel. When I return to the bathroom, I find him staring at the mirror. I stand next to him. He’s about a head taller than me. My brain says we look really cute as a couple, but I tell it to shut up.

  “The portrayal is quite accurate, more so than in the sea.”

  I smile. “I can’t imagine not having mirrors around.” I hold out the towel and pajamas. “Here you go. You don’t have to wear the tank top if you don’t feel comfortable.”

  “All right.”

  “Take as long as you need. Showers can be very relaxing. They are for me.” I close the door after me.

  I head to the guest room to make sure his bed is in order. Mom and I usually don’t have any guests, so everything should be clean. I bend forward and press my nose into the mattress, making sure it doesn’t smell dusty. Once I decide it’s fine, I fluff up the pillows and lean them against the headboard. Then I fold the blanket back. He should be comfortable here.

  The shower is still running when I pass the bathroom. Figuring he must be hungry, I make my way to the kitchen and open the fridge. Damarian only likes fish, but as his designated human tour guide, it’s my responsibility to introduce him to the delicious delicacies we, as humans, have to offer.

  Standing there for a few minutes, I can’t decide on anything. I open the pantry. My eyes settle on a box of pasta. I’ve been told I make a mean baked ziti…

  I grab the ziti and fill a pot with water. Once it’s boiling, I add in half the box.

  A strawberry-flavored scent attacks my nose. I turn around to find Damarian standing behind me. Wet hair dripping down his chest. His bare chest. He’s only wearing the pajama bottoms.

  When he notices the way I gape at him, he holds out his hands in an apology. “Forgive me.” He hands me a crumpled ball of white. I take it from him and realize it’s the tank top, split right down the middle. “I did not intend to damage it.”

  I burst into giggles, grabbing the counter for support. He stares at me with a confused expression. “Sorry,” I say. “I guess you need some practice with human clothes.” I lightly slap the shirt against his chest. “It’s no big deal. You can stay like this for now.”

  His gaze moves to the pot on the stove.

  “Oh, that’s a surprise for you. My specialty—baked ziti. If this doesn’t turn you human, nothing will,” I joke. “You hungry?”

  He touches his stomach. “Yes, I believe so. May I be of assistance?”

  I mix the pot with a wooden spoon. “Sure. Grab some shredded cheese from the fridge.”

  He doesn’t budge.

  I turn back toward him. Then it hits me. “Oh! That is the refrigerator, where we keep food cold so it won’t spoil. You’ll find a package in there with white strips. That’s shredded cheese.”

  He nods and walks over there. When his head disappears into the fridge, a sudden image hits me. Damarian and me as a couple, living together, cooking together. I quickly shake my head and mutter, “Idiot.”

  “I believe this is the ‘shredded cheese?’” he asks, holding up the package.

  “Yep. Bring it over, please.”

  He does as I say. I take the pot off the stove, grab a large bowl from the cupboard, and pour the ziti in, along with the shredded cheese and pasta sauce. Then I mix, pour them in a pan, and pop it into the oven. Damarian watches every movement with curious eyes.

  “Now we wait,” I say.

  He nods.

  I reach for my gummy worms and lead Damarian to the living room, where I turn on the TV.

  “Will you not shower?” he asks.

  I bite off the end of a worm. “You’ll be okay alone here?”

  “Yes. I understand how to navigate this device,” he says, nodding toward the remote.

  I hand him my gummy worms. “Just don’t eat too much. You don’t want your teeth to rot, or spoil your dinner.” I wink.

  As I pass him to leave the room, he takes hold of my hand. Despite him being in his human form, his hand is ice cold. It sends a shiver up my spine. I look down at him.

  “Cassie,” he says softly.

  “Yes?” my voice is above a whisper.

  “I very much appreciate your hospitality. Thank you.”

  I smile. “It’s my pleasure to have you here.”

  When I’m in my room, I rummage through my pajamas to find a decent-looking pair. I can’t believe an actual guy is in my house. A guy is going to sleep in my house.

  The bathroom smells like him. Like the ocean mixed with strawberries. I stand still for a few seconds with my eyes closed, enjoying his delicious smell, before turning on the water.

  Normally, showers relax me, but not today. My heart is beating in every inch of my body and I keep dropping the soap and shampoo bottle. Once I
’m finally out, I brush my hair in my room and check my reflection in the mirror. I’ve got on a blue tank top and matching blue bottoms with black polka dots. Sexy? Not really. Cute, yes. I’m not sure if Damarian goes for cute, though.

  The smell of baked ziti reaches my nose as I make my way to the kitchen. I rush inside and inspect it. It still needs a few minutes. When I stand up, I stumble back because Damarian is standing in the doorway. My hand goes to my heart. “You scared me.”

  He takes a step forward, holding out his hand. “Forgive me. I did not intend to startle you.”

  “It’s okay.” My chest rises and falls. I try to keep my eyes on his face and not his chest, but that’s not exactly easy.

  He moves a little closer to me, his gaze on my face. Then it slowly moves to my hair. Stepping even closer, he raises his hand toward my face until his fingers intertwine with my hair. “It is no longer bound,” he murmurs.

  I swallow a few times. When I talk, my voice is shaky. “I don’t bother with it. Just let it air dry and braid it in the morning.” No matter what I do, I can’t seem to get my hair to look good. It’s the type that can never look good, no matter what I do with it. Hay hair. That’s what the kids at school always called it.

  He continues to comb his fingers through my hair. That sends little chills up and down my back, and it takes all my willpower not to shiver. Then he lifts his other hand and does the same. His fingers massage my temple. My eyes flutter closed. After a few seconds, a moan escapes my lips.

  My eyes flash open and my cheeks burn.

  Damarian is staring into my eyes. “Hair is the most attractive element on a female. It is a shame to bind it.”

  It’s hard to form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence. “Not for me.”

  He raises his eyebrows in confusion.

  “My hair. It’s not pretty.”

  “Certainly it is.”

  I shake my head. “Not really. I don’t think any part of me is attractive. Not like other girls.” Definitely not like the mermaids he swims around with all day.

  His right hand slides down, caressing my neck. My knees want to give in and I want to melt in his arms. “You are mistaken, Cassie. You are one of the most beautiful females I have ever laid eyes upon.”