Page 148

I was about to tell her, yet again, that it didn’t even matter, when I heard a tiny disgusted sound coming from our right. Straightening, I turned my head and saw the older demiurgus lady eyeing us with disdain as she grabbed a wine bottle from the shelf.

My jaw clenched. It had been two months since Anita and I became official, and I was still floating around in a happy bubble most of the time, but I’d noticed the odd occasion when we got a funny look while we were out in public.

It was mostly older humans and demiurgus who didn’t seem to ‘approve’ of an interspecies relationship—as if they thought they had any fucking say in the matter anyway. Honestly, it wasn’t all that often, and Anita found it easy to ignore them, not caring what they thought, but it made me kind of mad.

A few weeks ago, I’d asked Beryl if she’d ever noticed the same thing. She said she’d noticed it very rarely too, and usually it was only when they went into the busy parts of the city for an afternoon, which they didn’t do very often. She said she tended not to tell Greid when she spotted it, because she knew he’d get self-conscious if he thought people were staring at him. The fact that they lived in a quiet, closer-knit area than the heart of the city probably helped as well. While Greid was socially anxious and didn’t go out much, his nearest neighbours still knew of him and liked him. How could anyone not like Greid? Seriously? He was the best. And they all loved Beryl. It was more of a community than the area where Anita and I lived, where everyone tended to be harder and more self-serving and less concerned with niceties.

Besides, Beryl had told me that she didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought of her relationship with Greid. A while back, she and Greid had finally told me the story of how they’d met, and I had immediately felt ridiculously guilty for ever disliking Beryl even a tiny bit. She’d been through some shit, and I was so happy she had someone as nice and kind as my brother now. But she said of all the things in her life people could judge her over, her relationship with Greid wasn’t one of them. They were madly in love, happy and secure and comfortable, and the fact that they were different species was irrelevant.

I tried to channel that Beryl mindset as I narrowed my eyes at the demiurgus lady in the store. I didn’t want to ruin today by getting pissed off with some unimportant d-bag, so I focused my attention back on what was important—Anita—and ducked down to kiss the side of her neck.

“C’mon, dude, you’re more assertive than this,” I teased. “Just pick something off the top shelf. Or is that only a bar thing?”

“It’s not that simple,” she argued back stubbornly. “I have to factor in the number of people, how much they’re likely to drink each… I can’t afford to buy eight fifty-dollar bottles of wine.”

“I’ll—”

“No.”

I huffed, straightening and letting my hands rest on her narrow waist as I eyed the bottles over her head. “Okay, well, my mom and aunt like bleu nuit. Sorin likes souterraine. So why don’t we get a few bottles of each?”

“Which brands, though?”

“I don’t think Sorin cares.” I scanned the rows of bottles, then pointed to one that looked familiar. “That’s the one Mom likes.”

Anita immediately grabbed three bottles of it. I chuckled as I took them from her. “You know she’ll still love you even if you don’t bring her wine, right?”

“You can’t guarantee that. Wait.” Anita stopped and turned to stare up at me. “I’m being so stupid. We can’t bring wine. We need to bring champagne.”

I perked up. I wasn’t a wine drinker, but I was partial to champagne on special occasions. “Oh yeah? How come?”

Anita gave me a flat look. “Have you already forgotten why we’re even going to your mum’s?”

“Of course not,” I shot back defensively. “Okay, champagne. That makes this a lot easier.”

Replacing the bottles, I strode down the aisle to the big fridges. The judgy demiurgus lady was gone, thank fuck.

“We’ll get a punnet of nightberries as well,” I told Anita as I loaded up our basket with champagne bottles. “There was a demiurgus trend in the eighties to drop a nightberry in champagne, and Ma and Aunt Indi still do it. Indi still loves a sweater with shoulder pads as well.”

Anita chuckled, but it quickly tapered off she watched me load the basket. “Nuni…”

“We might need to get a cart.” I looked around and spotted an abandoned one at the end of the aisle. Returning to Anita, I started transferring the bottles to the cart, then went back to the fridge to grab more.

“Nuni, we don’t need fifteen bottles of champagne,” she said incredulously.

“You’ve never seen my sisters drink,” I told her flatly, then made a face. “Well, Daga’s a mom now so she might not get drunk today, but Kiti and Suni are the heavyweights of the family. Besides, Greid and Beryl can take some bottles home with them.”

“We already got them a gift,” Anita said wryly.

“Yeah, well, this can just be an extra gift.” I grinned at her. “Ready?”

“Yep.” She patted my ass, falling into step beside me as I pushed the cart toward the fresh produce aisle.

I grinned, tugging her closer and slinging my arm over her shoulders, expertly navigating the cart one-handed. I fucking loved being able to show Anita affection in public. Kissing her sweaty cheek at the gym, holding her hand as we walked down the street, pulling her close while we were shopping or in a bar. It hadn’t gotten old yet. I didn’t think it ever would.

Plus, I loved the envious looks I’d get when people realised she was my girlfriend, but I never actually told Anita how much I enjoyed it because I didn’t think she’d be at all impressed by that.

Look, I’d never pretended not to be a vain, proud guy. And I was proud as fuck of being with Anita—every time I looked at her, I still couldn’t really believe it. She was so beautiful, and smart, and funny in her own understated way.