Page 51 of First Kiss with a Mothman

“It’s okay, it’s just Kovi. Tanner’s boyfriend.”

“Oh, uh, okay.” Arie wipes away a tear.

I turn to Kovi and shoot him a concerned look. He asks, “What…what happened?”

I glance at the ripped shirt on the ground and study Arie’s body―smooth, pale skin, covered in feathers a few minutes ago―then turn back to Kovi. “Arie…he, um…”

“I shifted.” His voice sounds so scratchy and defeated when he says, “I’m a monster.”

Chapter

Sixteen

ARIE

“Here, I got you these towels.” Mort hands me one towel, and I mutter my thanks. I’m not sure if I should be thrilled to get the privacy of my own bathroom, or mortified he can see me naked. Still, he did touch my dick that one time, so there’s no real need to be shy. And I did plan to get intimate with him tonight. But that sexy ship has sailed.

I quickly wrap the fabric around my waist and use the other towel to try to dry my hair. After stepping into my slippers, I take Mort’s arm and allow him to lead me through the doorway to my room.

“The glass doesn’t seem to have gotten far,” Mort says.

“That’s good.”

“And your cuts are minimal.”

“Glad.”

“Still, let me put some alcohol and petroleum jelly on your scrapes. Do you mind if I sit on your bed?”

“Of course not!” I try to muster up a positive demeanor despite everything that happened in the past two hours. Apparently, I sprouted bird features, and I can control a massive flock. I don’t remember it all. I’m not sure what type of monster I am, but I was human and the brain fog cleared by the time we walked back from the forest. My stomach was growling, so Mort escorted me to Mummy Mocha for water and a quick meal.

With my tattered shirt in hand, Mort held me as we walked back to my dorm. He kept checking up on me, and I can’t say I don’t like the feel of his arms around me, protecting my modesty. For the second time this semester, Mort is seeing to my personal needs while I’m at my most vulnerable.

But this time, it wasn’t my fault―the blood moon turned me into a monster.

Rather, it activated my monster traits. I’ve listened to internet articles about folks turning into monsters, but that’s usually little kids. I’m almost twenty-two for crying out loud. I’ve been blind my whole life, but now I’m some sort of feathered creature. Who did I piss off in my past life?

“This might sting,” Mort warns. I brace myself as he pats my cheek. It does, indeed, burn momentarily. But when I place my hand on his, I realize how intimate this all feels. I had almost forgotten that we were supposed to spend our night out together. So much for a first date―I’ve been cock-blocked by the moon.

“Thanks, Mort.” I rub his hand, and he stills. His wings stop buzzing, and I can almost picture his serious expression. “I’m sorry. About effing up our date.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” He gingerly applies more alcohol and petroleum jelly to a scrape on my shoulder. “The blood moon messes up everyone. Kovi told me all about his uncontrolled shift last year.”

“Yeah, but we had plans. Now I kind of ruined them.” Disappointment sinks in my gut like a rock.

“Hey, none of that.” Mort sounds like he’s smiling when he holds my chin. He pulls my face forward, and I want to kiss him so badly. “You didn’t ruin anything.”

He smells so good. I lean forward, taking in the warmth of his fuzzy face. To my pleasant surprise, he meets me halfway, placing his fuzzy lips on mine. I can’t believe this sweet, sexy moth dude wants to keep kissing me despite the craziness of tonight.

And we’re here, alone on my bed. I’m only wearing a towel. If we keep kissing, my interest in Mort is about to become very, very apparent. I’m two seconds away from pitching a tent with the towel around my waist, but I don’t care. Screw waiting; I deserve some sexy fun after tonight.

I open my mouth, but before I can pull Mort down into the sheets, multiple knocks on the door interrupt us. “Arie, baby! Mommy’s here!”

Well, that killed my boner. I huff in frustration as Mort sits back up. He chuckles, and I can almost see him patting at his clothes to make himself appear more decent. I have half a mind to tell my mom to leave so I can get freaky with my sort-of-potential boyfriend, but that would be rude. More importantly, Mom might call a federal agency to charge into my dorm to find me if I don’t talk to her. Might as well face the music.

“Yeah?” I holler.

“Open up, sweetie!” The panic in her voice is undeniable. It’s more than her usual concern, but if she knows what just happened to me, it’s warranted.