He chuckles, laces his fingers through mine, and pulls me to a stop. Then, hooking his finger underneath my chin, he angles my head upward toward the questionable creature. “It’s part faerie, hence the wings. The tail is from its lion blood. And the rest of it is because it has pixie in it.”
“So pixies are hairy?”
“Some are.”
“Oh.” I inch closer to him as the falopixie circles above our head. “What do they do?”
“Not much other than flap around and sometimes bite the flesh of pretty girls. Their favorite ones to bite usually have blue eyes.”
Fear lashes through me.
“What…” My eyes narrow as I spot the teasing glint in his eyes. “That’s not funny.”
“It kind of was.” He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Don’t worry. Even if they preferred pretty blue-eyed girls, you’d be safe.”
Ouch. That remark stings a bit. Not that it should matter whether East thinks I’m pretty or not. Although, he has told me before that I am, so…
Guys are so confusing sometimes.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he adds amusedly. “I meant because the charm we put on you makes your eyes look silver to everyone else besides you and us.”
I play it cool. “It doesn’t matter to me. I mean, I’m glad no one can see my real eye color, so that matters, but the part about you not thinking I’m pretty doesn’t matter to me. At all.” And now I’m rambling. Awesome. And around East of all creatures.
He examines me with an amused smile on his face. “You do realize that me and probably almost every other creature that’s ever seen you thinks you’re gorgeous. I’ve told you this before, lightning eyes.”
“It doesn’t matter if anyone thinks I’m gorgeous,” I tell him, feeling self-conscious about the compliment.
“I don’t really care if it matters to you or not. I just wanted to state the fact. Again.” He tugs me closer to him. “Saying your gorgeous is like saying the human world’s sky is blue. It’s just a fact. Just like your prettiness is.”
I give him a tolerant look despite the fluttering of my heart. “Do those lines often work for you?”
“It’s not a line, lightning eyes,” he insists, appearing genuine. “You’re gorgeous and I’ve thought so since the day I walked into your house and saw you and Foster glaring at each other.”
I grow extremely uncomfortable at how warm his words are making me feel. “Can we talk about something else besides my prettiness?”
“Only if you admit your pretty.”
“Nah, I’d rather not.”
He gives a nonchalant shrug. “Then I guess you’re going to have to stand here and listen to me sprout cheesy lines about how your eyes are as bright as the stars and how your lips look so delectably delicious that I seriously want to bite them.” He bites his lip as his gaze drags up and down my body, zeroing in on my legs. “And those goddamn long, sexy legs…” He gives an exaggerated moan. “I seriously want to lick them as I spread them open. And then I’ll lick your—”
“Stop!” I shout, my cheeks as hot as the damn sun.
He laughs, totally getting off on my embarrassment. “What’s wrong? Can’t handle a little sexy talk?”
Apparently not. Not that I’m going to divulge that to him.
I squirm. “Can we please just talk about something other than my body parts?”
“I will if you say it.”
“Fine,” I grit out. “I’m gorgeous. There. Are you happy?”
He grins at me. “I actually am.”
I blow out an exasperated sigh. “Now can we please focus on you telling me more about what’s going on with this whole soul tethering thing?”
His smile goes poof. “Yeah, I guess I probably should.” His gaze glides upward to the falopixie, then he tightens his hold on my hand and tows me deeper into the trees.