Page 51 of A Match Made in Error

“Oh, sounds like you two had some sexy fun last night,” Aoife teases, and now it's Noah’s turn to blush.

Poppy snorts, choking on the juice in her hand. A laugh bubbles out of me, genuine and immediate. Honestly, it’s not a bad reaction to the question.

“Don’t mind her.” I drape my arm across the back of her chair and pull it closer and closer to mine until our thighs are touching and I can rest my arm on her shoulders. “Poppy’s shy.” Poppy looks at me with painted-on adoration, but I can feel the desire to glare rolling off her. I grab the mug before me, bringing the warm cappuccino to my lips.

“She didn’t seem shy last night when she was talking about how big it is.” Aoife’s words rattle around my brain. I choke, then laugh under my breath.

“Careful,” I murmur in a way that’s seemingly private but loud enough for them to hear, “keep talking like that and I’ll start thinking you’re proud of me.”

“I didn’t say that.” Poppy steals my mug and takes a drink, pulling back to reveal a thin foam mustache. My thumb reaches out, wiping it from her lip slowly and then holding her gaze as I bring it to my mouth and suck the foam off.

“So hot,” Aoife fake-gasps.

“I think Aoife is telling one of her jokes,” Noah says adoringly.

Poppy’s eyes are still on me, mouth dropped open slightly. That’s it, babe. She’s doing a great job of making it look like she wants me.

“I was, but after seeing that, I don’t doubt it.” Aoife forks a wedge of melon and drops it on Noah’s plate at the same time he spoons all his grapes onto hers. Like they’re in perfect sync. Like a real couple. I grab my fork and stab the croissant on Poppy’s plate.

“Hey!” She snatches it back. “Get your own.”

I wish I had the ability to speak into her mind. To tell her this is a part of playing the cutesy, in-love couple.

Wait!

I summon my shadows, uttering a silent, “Intro,” in the Midnight Tongue, and then grab her by the chin. To anyone else, it looks like I’m kissing her, but there is a breath’s distance still between our lips when I blow cool air into her open mouth. A small sliver, nearly imperceptible, of shadow slips between her lips and then becomes one with her being. From my own experience, I know the stunned look on her face is from being light-headed and feeling a tingling sensation vibrate through her entire body.

I release her chin and sit back.

“Why did you do that?” she hisses.

“So I can do this.” Her pupils blow wide when I speak directly into her mind.

“How?” It’s adorable how nonchalant she’s trying to look. Fumbling with her fork and spoon with a forced smile on her lips.

“Shadow magic is vast and unknown to most.” I shrug. “This is a mind-link. While my shadow is within you, we can share thoughts.”

“I’m going to hit him,” she thinks. Probably not a thought meant for me to hear.

“I’ll need to teach you to guard your thoughts at some point.” She blushes. Caught. “But know that hitting me will only turn me on.” Controlling one’s thoughts is crucial around a shadow fae. I learned as a child, which is why Poppy can’t hear me thinking about how I think she looks in that tight little sundress, a blush painting her cheeks, and her mouth hanging agape. Friends don’t share thoughts on how fuckable they find their friend to be. And if I did, she probably would hit me, and not in a way I’d like. “I thought it’d be easier to fake it right now if we could share thoughts. Like, so I can tell you I took food off your plate to look coupley and cute.”

“I’d rather you stick your tongue in my mouth than take my croissant.”

My brow quirks. “Don’t tempt me, Pop.”

“Quit doing that thing with your voice,” she tsks internally.

“What thing?” I bring a bite of dripping pineapple to my mouth.

“You’re making it sound all gravelly and sexy on purpose.”

I fix my gaze on her, a smirk settling in. “So you finally admit it. You think my voice is sexy.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m not talking.” I can hear the annoying sing-song cadence of my thoughts rolling into her mind.

“You know what I mean! Bastard.”