that interested?
Alric kicked back in his favorite chair with a sigh, letting his legs stretch out in front of him. For a moment, he let himself indulge in the idea of asking Cameron out on a date. A proper date, with all that entailed. It was all too blissful even in his head. Was it wise to do so? Alric feared not only rejection but in making things awkward. If their dating went poorly, then wouldn’t Cameron hesitate in staying here? In accepting a position in the clan?
The concern was valid and yet…and yet.
He sighed again, sinking a little further into the chair. It had been something of a long day, and these worries didn’t help any. Alric mentally set them aside and focused on simple pleasures instead. He was glad to finally sit and put his feet up. Of course, as soon as he settled, he started longing for a drink. Alric eyed the sidebar on the opposite side of the room, debating with himself. How badly did he want that drink? Was it worth the effort of moving?
The door to the lounge opened, and Baldewin stepped through. He’d shed the official suit at some point and was back in his usual form-fitting shirt and jeans. He paused upon spying Alric, brows quirked behind his glasses. “What?”
“You’re up.” Alric smiled mischievously. “Perfect. You can fetch me a drink.”
“I’m up, saving you the trouble from getting up, so I can fetch you a drink? I see several flaws with that logic.”
“You’re going to pour yourself a drink anyway,” Alric pointed out oh-so-reasonably.
“I was actually going to mix myself a drink.” Baldewin eyed him back in challenge.
Alric’s face immediately fell. “No, why? Why would you torment yourself that way? Wait for Ravi, he can mix you a drink.”
Baldewin rolled his eyes expressively. “Alric, I can mix my own drinks—”
“May I remind you of the time you tried to make a White Russian, only instead of coffee liqueur you put in brandy—”
“—that was an honest mistake, I was distracted by the game going on—”
“—and then when you realized it didn’t taste right, you put in wine to fix it?”
“Again,” Baldewin said with a sigh, “distracted by the game.”
“You mixed vodka, brandy, wine, and cream together. It was vile. And chunky. The worst thing you’ve ever handed me.” Alric had tasted it to help him figure out why it hadn’t come out right, sure, but still. “And the whole time, you were trying to blame Ravi for not telling you how to mix it right.”
The other door into the lounge opened at that moment and Ravi popped in. “I heard my name. What did I do this time?”
Alric tilted his head to see over the back of the chair. “I was reminding him of the White Russian disaster.”
“Oh god, that was vile,” Ravi agreed promptly, expressive face screwing up as if just the memory made him gag. “Baldewin, no mixing drinks for you.”
Baldewin sighed, defeated, and lifted both hands in surrender. “Fine. Then come mix me one. Alric, come get your own drink.”
Alric groaned in protest and settled more firmly into his chair. That held no appeal whatsoever. It was actually game night, their weekly night for playing a campaign of Dungeons and Dragons, but he wasn’t sure if he had the mental energy to play.
“Why are you standing over my shoulder?” Ravi prodded at Baldewin with an elbow to his ribs even as he reached for two glasses.
“I want to see how you do it. You never give me good measurements to go by. I don’t know how much to put in.”
“You put in stuff until your ancestors lean in to whisper against your ear, That’s enough.”
“That’s not helpful.”
“It is not my job to be helpful.” Ravi’s hands flew as he poured from different bottles, mixing drinks like he’d been a bartender in a previous incarnation. “Alric? What do you want?”
“Brandy, straight.”
“You are so boring. I bet your safeword is vanilla.”
Alric snorted and refused to be baited. “I’ve had too many complications recently. I want something simple tonight.”
Handing Baldewin his drink, Ravi shot him an intrigued look over his shoulder. “Ooh, are we talking about Cameron already? I thought I’d have to get you drunk first.”
Alric suddenly felt the distinct lack of a drink in his hand. This impending conversation called strongly for the haze of alcohol. “How did we jump from complications to Cameron?”
For some reason, both dragons gave him this doubtful look, then turned to each other.
“I can’t figure out