Of Poseidon

Well. What does it matter if she thinks that?”
    “I told her we weren’t dating, though. Just this morning. Going to the beach with you makes me look like a liar.”
    He scratches the back of his neck. “I don’t understand. If you told her we weren’t dating, then why does she think we are?”
    She relaxes against his driver-side door. “Well, this is all actually your fault, not mine.”
    “I’m obviously not asking the right questions—”
    “The way you acted toward me when I hit my head, Galen. Some people saw that. And they told my mom. She thinks I’ve been hiding you from her, keeping you a secret. Because she thinks we’ve been … we’ve been…”
    “Dating?” he offers. He can’t understand why she’d have a difficult time discussing dating, if it means what he thinks it does—spending time with one human more than others to see if he or she would be a good mate.
    The Syrena do the same, only they call it sifting—and sifting doesn’t take nearly as long as dating. A Syrena can sift out a mate within a few days. He’d laughed when Rachel said some humans date for years. So indecisive. Then an echo of Toraf’s voice whispers to him, calling him a hypocrite. You’re twenty years old. Why haven’t you sifted for a mate? But that doesn’t make him indecisive. He just hasn’t had time to sift and keep his responsibility watching the humans. If it weren’t for that, he’d already be settled down. How can Toraf think Emma’s the reason he hasn’t sifted yet? Up until three weeks ago, he didn’t even know she existed.
    Emma nods, then shakes her head. “Dating, yes. But she thinks we’re, uh, more than dating.”
    “Oh,” he says, thoughtful. Then he grins. “ Oh .” The reason her lips are turning his favorite color is because Emma’s mom thinks they’ve been dating and mating. The blush extends down her neck and disappears into her T-shirt. He should probably say something to make her feel more comfortable. But teasing her seems so much more fun. “Well then, the least she could do is give us some privacy—”
    “Ohmysweetgoodness!” She snatches her backpack from the seat and marches around her car to the driver’s side. Before she can get the door unlocked, he plucks the key from her fingers and tucks it into his jeans’ pocket. She moves to retrieve it, but stops when she realizes where she’s about to go fishing.
    He’s never seen her this red. He laughs. “Calm down, Emma. I’m just kidding. Don’t leave.”
    “Yeah, well, it’s not funny. You should have seen her this morning. She almost cried. My mom doesn’t cry.” She crosses her arms again but relaxes against her door.
    “She cried ? That’s pretty insulting.”
    She cracks a tiny grin. “Yeah, it’s an insult to me . She thinks I would … would…”
    “More than date me?”
    She nods.
    He steps toward her and puts his hand beside her on the car, leaning in. A live current seems to shimmy up his spine. What are you doing? “But she should know that you don’t even think of me like that. That it would never even cross your mind,” he murmurs. She looks away, satisfying his unspoken question—it has crossed her mind. The same way it crosses his. How often? Does she feel the voltage between them, too? Who cares, idiot? She belongs to Grom. Or are you going to let a few sparks keep you from uniting the kingdoms?
    He pulls back, clenching his teeth. His pockets are the only safe place for his hands at the moment. “Why don’t I meet her then? You think that would make her feel better?”
    “Um.” She swipes her hair to the other side of her face. Her expression falls somewhere between shock and expectation. And she had every right to expect it—he’s been entertaining the idea of kissing her for over two weeks now. She fidgets the door handle. “Yeah, it might. She won’t let me go anywhere—especially with you—if she doesn’t meet you first.”
    “Should I be afraid?”
    She sighs. “Normally I would say no. But after this morning…” She shrugs.
    “How about I follow you to your house so you can drop off your car? Then she can interrogate me. When she sees how charming I am, she’ll let you ride to the beach with me.”
    She rolls her eyes. “Just don’t be too charming. If you’re too smooth, she’ll never believe—just don’t overdo it, okay?”
    “This is getting complicated,” he says, unlocking her car.
    “Just remember, this is your idea and your fault.