Dominik
DAMN IT. THOSE WERE NOT THE RIGHT WORDS EITHER. Her eyes widen. And then she smiles. "What's stopping you?"
I'm one breath away from hauling her into my lap, candlelight and crowd be damned. "Dinner," I grind out. "This is a romantic dinner." I pick up my knife, calculating the force of the throw needed if that guy who's still staring at her gets any ideas. "How did you know it's my birthday, anyway?"
"Otaktay told me."
"He shouldn't have." I turn the knife over and over in my fingers. "Why not?"
"I don't like birthdays."
"There must be a reason."
"Because I'm not a kid, that's why."
I'm being surly and unreasonable. But Willow just looks at me patiently and puts a hand over mine. The tension and pain inside me fade away, replaced by the warmth of her presence. I let the knife slip from my grasp. "When you were a kid, what did you do for birthdays?" she asks.
