Silken Scales - The Chameleon Effect

45 - Idris

"See y'later, lovebirds," Marek calls as we climb from the Toyota outside the Thorny Rose.

I dip my head into the car. "Say hi to your mom for me."

"Sure, Id. If I can get a word in edgewise while she's lip-lashing me about staying out all night."

"Want me to say something?" I offer.

"Nah. She bought the car trouble excuse. As long as you corroborate if she asks. I'd tell her the truth," he laughs, "but she'd have me admitted."

I grin. "We got pictures."

"She'd say those were CGI. Never believe 'em for a second." He gives me a thumbs up and drives off.

As soon as we're inside, I pin Cadi to the wall, my mouth on hers. God, she tastes sweet. I want to carry her downstairs and pick up where we left off on the bed.

She presses her face into my neck. "I was afraid I'd never see you again."

"I'd have been back here sooner if it weren't for Dad." I shake my head. "The second I was human again, he gets this big idea of dragging me to the city to meet some producer he's courting for a TV spot. I finally escaped, but when I got here, you were gone."

Cadi rocks her forehead against my shoulder. "Thank you for coming after me."

I squeeze her into me. The length of her body against mine is a perfect fit. "Like I was going to let you go."

We're kissing again. Her lips are soft, and the thought of being in that bed with her pulls at me. I loop my arm around her waist, contemplating the best way to pick her up and carry her downstairs. Funny, when she was unconscious, I didn't have to think twice, just scooped her into my arms and off I went.

Cadi clears her throat. "That talk with your dad..."

"Yeah." The word comes out like it wants to reshape itself into later. I don't want to let her go.

She strokes my cheek. "We should probably shower before we head out and be social."

I give her a suggestive smile. "Together?"

She laughs. "Then you'd definitely never get out of here. Go."

One. More. Second. I kiss her, long and leisurely, on the mouth, the neck, her chin, her nose. She giggles and pushes me away. I smile and go.

The sun blazes through a cloudless sky and gleams across the snow accumulated in front yards and on roadsides. A perfect bike ride if it weren't for what's waiting at home.

I swing into the horseshoe drive — which I'm hoping the sun cleared of snow, and not Dad — and circle to the back of the house.

Mom's cooking Dad's favorite breakfast. Fried eggs and smoked salmon on a pumpernickel bagel. Never did like pumpernickel, but the food smells amazing. Maybe because I haven't eaten since yesterday lunchtime.

"Hey, Mom."

She looks up. No frown. Just question marks dotted all over her face.

"Sorry." My wind-burned cheeks glow. "An emergency. Honest." I heave a sigh. "Where's Dad?"

"In his office."

"How'd things go last night?" Best to know what I'm heading into.

"You should ask him."

Argh. Thanks a lot, Mom.

I'm about to be thrown into a smoking volcano, but off I go, anyway.