The Dragon Next Door by Holly Day

Author:Holly Day [Day, Holly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: JMS Books LLC
Published: 2021-09-11T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

Another week passed. The mornings turned crisper and some of the flowers on Adrian’s balcony were succumbing to the change of season. Adrian didn’t see Lorcan, but there had been a delivery one day. From what he could see from his balcony when they unloaded it, it was a bed frame. He couldn’t be sure; a box could include a lot of things, and he had itched to go over to Lorcan to have a look.

With a growl, he grabbed one of the pots with a painted nettle in it. The green and purple leaves would look great in Lorcan’s kitchen. It had an old kind of charm that would match the table and the china. He had no idea where Lorcan had placed the first two plants though.

He stepped out of his apartment and knocked on Lorcan’s door—no sound. Now that he no longer had the cast, maybe he was back at work. Adrian had never asked what he did for a living.

He pushed the doorbell and waited.

The purple and green leaves were beautiful. He could place it on the floor outside the door as he had the others, but he wanted to see what kind of bed frame Lorcan had picked—if it was a bed frame. Maybe it was a bookshelf. He didn’t think it was a couch, but he’d been wrong before.

He pushed the doorbell again but turned to leave as soon as he had.

“What?” Lorcan yanked the door open and glared at him.

“Hello to you too. What lovely weather we have today, don’t you think?”

Lorcan sighed and dropped his shoulders. “Hello, Adrian.”

“Why the dragon act? By now, I know you don’t breathe fire, even though you act as if you do.”

Lorcan studied him, a small crease forming between his brows. “I believed you were someone else.”

Oh…Adrian looked over his shoulder, almost expecting the guy with the radio voice to be there. “Who did you think I was?” There had never been anyone to visit Lorcan that he’d seen. Not even when he had his leg in a cast and couldn’t walk down to the basement to book the laundry room.

“Doesn’t matter.” The growl told him otherwise, and Adrian was back to thinking maybe there was werewolf blood coursing through Lorcan’s veins.

“I see.” He didn’t. “Painted nettle.” He held up the pot. “Would look great in the kitchen.” He batted his eyelashes and hoped for a smile—he didn’t get one. When Lorcan stepped to the side, Adrian entered the apartment. He wasn’t sure if it was an invite or simply Lorcan changing position, but he wasn’t a vampire—though he normally waited for an invite anyway.

He hurried into the only room and took in the bed. It was a wrought frame in what looked like bronze. “Oh my…Is it vintage?” It was lovely.

Lorcan shook his head. “Amazon. It was called Shabby Chic French Country or something equally ridiculous.”

Adrian grinned at him. It might have been the highest number of words Lorcan had strung together at once. “It’s beautiful.

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