Free Dragon by Finley Aaron Page B

him, but I’m still sort of groggy from sleep, and it’s weird, you know, after working alongside him all summer, to finally see his face…at least the top half.
    As I’d suspected, he doesn’t show any sign of wrinkles, not even around his eyes, where people even as young as their twenties usually start to get crows’ feet.
    Is he any older than I am?
    He has to be, right? I mean, he knows so much about butchering and how to get back to my home.
    Or maybe it only seems like he knows so much, because I know so little, because my father and Ram have refused to tell me anything. Maybe he’s not hardly any older than I am.
    Suddenly I feel self-conscious and nervous. Ram is a guy, not just a talking beard with swords. He’s a cute guy, even.
    This could be awkward.
    I slowly ease myself up so I’m not slumping quite so much, and I flex my toes, forcing the blood through my tired legs to my feet, thinking frantically as I tell myself not to feel nervous. I mean, Ram is still Ram. He’s still the same chap I’ve been working with all summer long.
    In some ways, I’m more shocked by his attractiveness than the fact he’s a dragon.
    The dragon thing, after all, is so completely out there, so beyond anything I’ve ever experienced, that it’s like I don’t even know how to process it.
    But a hot guy is something I’ve actually encountered before, not that I’ve ever really spoken to one. It’s something I’ve thought about, dreamt about, wished for.
    I’m watching his face, telling myself to stay calm, to play it cool, breathing in and out in a soothing, stable manner. And I think I can do this. I can. I was just taken aback for a moment there, more surprised than anything. I’m totally over it. Acclimated to his cuteness completely.
    It is no big deal.
    Ram opens his eyes and looks at me. “Hey.”
    My mouth falls open. I can feel it hanging there, and I’m vaguely aware that I should be saying something coherent instead of the extended “um” noise I can hear coming from myself yet am powerless to control.
    His eyes are sapphire blue. Blue like the dragon from last night, the one who saved me and set me down so gently. Remember how I said he was good-looking and cute, sleeping there with his eyes closed?
    With his eyes open he is, blimey, wow, I no longer possess the ability to speak.
    “Are you okay?” Ram’s nose crinkles with concern. It’s a familiar sight. I mean, I know this nose. I’ve held entire conversations with this man that consisted solely of grunts and nose crinkles.
    But there are eyes above the nose now, instead of goggles. Wowza blue hotness eyes that look at me like he’s afraid maybe the fall through the air hurt me more than he’d realized.
    I shake my head to clear my thoughts. “Sorry. I just woke up.” I swallow and wet my lips with my tongue. I can do this. Talking. I have been talking to this man, even arguing with him, for the last four months. I can do this.
    “You have eyes.”
    He smiles.
    I’ve got to say, I’m thankful for the beard. At the same time, I’m sort of curious about what he would look like without the beard, but if the rest of his face is half as good looking as the parts I can see, I would be reduced to a pathetic blubbering lump.
    Keep in mind, I have zero experience with guys. Especially hot guys with sapphire eyes, who can fly.
    But the smiling thing is encouraging, because he could be really upset with me for running away last night and nearly getting myself killed.
    I look down at Ozzie’s muzzle and try to compose myself. “Do you think we should take the gauze off Ozzie?” I ask without looking up. Conversation is easier if I pretend nothing has changed.
    “Maybe after she wakes up. She needs her rest.”
    “That’s what I was thinking.” I nod and look up and—still handsome.
    Ram isn’t smiling anymore. He actually looks almost sad. “Last night…”
    His sentence fades to a sigh, and as I stare at his face, waiting for him to say