Page 31 of The Troll’s Summer Flame

“Sounds good. I gotta go. Love you lots. I’ll text Josiah. I hope he’s safe. Bye!”

True to my word, I hang up and text my brother.

Andrea: I hear you’re saving lives. Proud of you, big bro.

Josiah: Image loading.

I almost vomit on the spot.

Josiah: Look. You can see how the gangrene has impacted the foot and is spreading up the calf. I might get to assist on an amputation tonight!

Andrea: Good for you. Can you please warn me before you send pictures like that?

Josiah: Wimp. The worst thing you have to look at is sheet music with coffee stains. Or boogery little kids.

Andrea: I love you, too. If you get back to Jersey City before I do, you can have my Red, White, and Blue bundt cake.

Josiah: Bet.

Josiah: Image loading.

Josiah: Look! This is a super rare kind of venous ablation that’s refusing to heal!

Andrea: I rescind my bundt cake. Meghan gets it.

Josiah: Brat.

Yep. I wanna go hang out with a bunch of strangers and one oversized firefighter. It might be a little easier than dealing with my family right now.

The day has been balmy, a pleasant eighty with breezes and some lowering clouds. If it rains, I won’t mind—well, unless it rains hard.

Actually, I might like it to rain hard. Then Andrea and I could skip this date and—

I stop in mid-thought. All around me, kids and families are milling across the field, eating snow cones, getting their faces painted, trying to win prizes with ring tosses and lucky duck floats, and all the rest of that noisy joyfulness that makes me feel an extra surge of protectiveness. This is a beautiful, safe place. Full of people who love each other and monsters who will fight on the side of good to save that peace.

If Andrea and I weren’t here, enjoying this happy, festive evening, maybe we’d be hiking. Or fishing by a quiet spot in the Pine Ridge River, or out at Blue Moon Lake. Maybe she’d want me to come back to her place.

I close my eyes, and I can almost hear her playing. I dream about sitting with her standing beside me. Her hands on my arms. Then my shoulders. Just the thought of innocent touches makes me feel shameful urges, and I don’t want her to think I’m like that. Some big, drooling, snarling, rutting beast.

“It’s Miss Flores! Hi, Miss Flores!”

“Miss Flores!”

My head jerks up, and I can’t help the instant smile that floods my face. A pack of little ones has spotted Andrea as she walks towards me. She’s in that clingy blue dress again, as if she knows that I’m already trying to wrangle carnal thoughts, and she wants to throw fuel on the fire.

What if she is trying to entice you? Did you think of that?

That’s nonsense.

What if she’s hoping to entice you just a little? Into a kiss?

That... that might be okay. But nothing more.

Parts of my body protest that decision, but it’s the way it has to be. Andrea clearly doesn’t know I’m a troll, and that’s fine for friendly companionship. For bedding? No.

For breeding?

Oh, damn it, that thought was never supposed to happen, and I try hard to shove it away. It’s not my fault that I imagine her hands on mine, and suddenly it’s my hands on her hips, and her hands on my shoulders, urging me to get closer. To do more than give her a simple kiss.