Page 38 of Crossing Between

Watching Zoey sleep was quickly becoming one of my favorite pastimes.

Her face, completely relaxed in slumber, looked younger, unburdened by the weight of everything we were facing.

Her vibrant hair fanned across the pillow in wild disarray, and her soft snores made my chest tighten with an unfamiliar tenderness.

I'd volunteered for the overnight watch at her apartment, claiming I wasn't tired after our long conversation. The truth was, I couldn't bear to be away from her. Not when the connection between us felt so raw and new.

She stirred slightly, mumbling something unintelligible before settling again. I resisted the urge to brush a strand of hair from her face, not wanting to wake her. She needed rest to recover her strength.

Instead, I checked my phone. A text from Elias.

Everything quiet?

I typed back quickly.

All good. She's sleeping.

His response came immediately.

Take care of her.

I smiled at the protectiveness in those simple words. Elias might pretend to be the stoic one but he was just as gone for her as I was.

A sudden idea struck me, making me grin. I needed to do something special for Zoey, something to take her mind off all the darkness and danger. Something uniquely me.

I spent the next hour planning, making calls in hushed tones so as not to disturb her. By the time dawn's first light filtered through her colorful curtains, I had everything arranged.

Zoey woke slowly, stretching like a cat before her eyes fluttered open. She seemed momentarily startled to find me sitting in the chair beside her bed.

"Morning, sunshine," I smiled, enjoying the way her hair stuck up at odd angles. "Sleep well?"

She yawned, covering her mouth with her hand. "Better than I have in days. What time is it?"

"Just after three," I stood, stretching my own limbs, feeling the satisfying pop of my joints after sitting in that chair for hours.

The sunlight had shifted, casting golden rectangles across her colorful bedspread.

"How about some food? I make a mean omelet.

And by mean, I'm talking legendary status.

The kind that would make professional chefs weep with jealousy. "

"It's that late?" Zoey blinked rapidly, her eyes widening as she glanced toward the window where the high sun confirmed my words.

"I must have been more tired than I thought.

" She pushed herself up against her pillows, that adorable bedhead of hers becoming even more chaotic with the movement.

Her gaze shifted back to me, one eyebrow arching skeptically as she looked me up and down.

"You cook? Since when does the man who once set fire to microwave popcorn have culinary skills beyond dialing for takeout? "

"Don't sound so surprised," I feigned offense, clasping my hands over my heart. "I'm a man of many talents."

That earned me a sleepy laugh as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. She wore a large t-shirt as a nightgown, the fabric swallowing her curves but somehow making her look even more appealing.

"I'll be right out," she promised, heading for the bathroom.

While she freshened up, I raided her kitchen, finding enough ingredients to make a decent breakfast. By the time she emerged, hair damp from a quick shower and dressed in those eye-searing colors she loved, I had tea brewing and eggs sizzling in the pan.

"Smells amazing," she slid onto a stool at her tiny kitchen counter, watching me work.

"Just wait till you taste it," I winked, flipping the omelet with a flourish.

We ate in comfortable silence, the domesticity of the moment not lost on me. It felt right, being here with her like this. As if we'd been doing it for years rather than days.

After breakfast, I cleared my throat. "So, I was thinking."

"Dangerous," she teased, sipping her coffee.

"Very funny," I rolled my eyes. "I was thinking we should go on that date I mentioned. Today."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Today? But Varon said...?"

"Varon said one of us needs to be with you at all times," I reminded her. "I'm one of us and I'll be with you the whole time."

She hesitated, clearly torn between caution and desire. "Is it safe?"

"I wouldn't suggest it if I thought it wasn't," I reached across the counter to take her hand. "Besides, we can't put our lives on hold indefinitely. The Essencefeaster wants us scared, isolated. Living is the best revenge."

A slow smile spread across her face. "Okay. What did you have in mind?"

I grinned, excitement bubbling up inside me. "An oni-style date."

"What exactly does that entail?" She looked both intrigued and slightly worried.

"It's a surprise," I squeezed her hand. "But wear something comfortable. And bring a jacket. We'll be out late."

Her eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Now I'm really intrigued."

"Good," I stood, gathering our plates. "We leave in an hour."

I texted Elias and Varon while Zoey got ready, letting them know my plans. Elias responded with cautious approval. Varon was less enthusiastic, but didn't forbid it outright, which I took as tacit permission.

When Zoey emerged from her bedroom, she wore purple leggings that hugged every curve, a bright teal top with some kind of glittery pattern, and comfortable sneakers. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun, and her smile was eager and excited.

"Ready for adventure?" I offered my arm.

She linked her arm with mine. "Lead the way, oni-man."

I drove us out of the city, taking meandering back roads to avoid the crush of weekend traffic.

My car might not have been impressive, but it knew these winding shortcuts like an old friend.

Zoey peppered me with questions the entire way, each one more creative than the last as her patience wore thinner.

"Are we going skydiving? Monster hunting? To a secret supernatural fight club?" She leaned toward me, her colorful form practically vibrating with anticipation.

"Patience is a virtue," I replied with exaggerated solemnity, enjoying how her nose scrunched up in frustration. There was something delightful about keeping her in suspense with the way her eyes lit up every time we made a turn, how she studied the passing scenery for clues.

Finally, as the sun began its lazy descent toward the horizon, painting the sky in strokes of amber and rose, I turned onto a narrow dirt road that wound through a dense forest. I glanced at Zoey, savoring her expression of wonder as we emerged from the treeline.

Before us stretched a sprawling meadow, tall grasses swaying like a golden sea in the breeze, bathed in the honeyed light of sunset.

Wildflowers dotted the landscape in splashes of purple and white.

In the center, looking impossibly romantic against the natural backdrop, sat a small table draped in white linen with two elegant chairs.

Surrounding this intimate island were hundreds of tiny lanterns placed in careful patterns, currently unlit but promising to transform the space into something magical once darkness claimed the sky.

"You did all this?" Her fingers pressed against the passenger window like a child glimpsing snow for the first time. "What is this place?" Zoey's voice was hushed with wonder as I parked the car.

"My secret spot," I admitted, suddenly feeling a bit vulnerable. "I found it years ago when I first moved here. It reminded me of home."

I led her to the table, which was already set with plates and glasses. A large picnic basket waited beside it.

"A meadow picnic?" Her face lit up with delight.

"An oni-style date," I confirmed. "We believe the best connections happen under the sky, away from the noise and distractions of the world. Just two souls and the universe."

"That's..." She seemed at a loss for words. "That's incredibly romantic."

I felt my cheeks warm slightly. "Don't sound so surprised."

"Sorry," she laughed. "I just didn't expect this."

"There's a lot about me you don't know yet," I pulled out her chair. "I'm looking forward to showing you."

As darkness began to slowly fall, the lanterns automatically lit up, bathing the meadow in a soft, golden glow. I unpacked the picnic basket, revealing an assortment of foods I'd had delivered from my favorite Japanese restaurant.

"I hope you like sushi," I arranged the containers on the table.

"I've actually never had it," she rubbed the back of her neck. "But I'm willing to try."

I gasped in mock horror. "Never had sushi? This is a tragedy that must be remedied immediately."

I spent the next hour introducing her to different types of sushi, enjoying her reactions as she discovered new flavors. Her face when she first tried wasabi was particularly memorable. Her eyes widened in shock before she gulped down half her water.

"You could have warned me!" She was still fanning her mouth.

I couldn't stop laughing. "Your face was priceless!"

She threw her napkin at me, but she was laughing too.

As we ate, we talked about everything and nothing.

Our childhoods, our dreams, our favorite movies.

I told her stories about growing up in Japan, about the festivals and traditions I missed.

She shared memories of her parents before they died and how she'd raised her brother while still a child herself.

"Dessert time," After we'd finished the sushi, I pulled out a small container filled with brightly colored mochi.

"These look interesting," she picked up a pink one, examining it curiously.

"Magical mochi," I wiggled my eyebrows mysteriously. "Each one has a different effect."

She raised an eyebrow. "What kind of effect?"

"Nothing dangerous," I assured her. "Just fun. The magic only lasts a few minutes." Well, except for a special one .

She hesitated only briefly before popping the pink one into her mouth. Her eyes widened as the flavor hit her tongue, then widened further as her body suddenly lifted a few inches off her chair.

"I'm floating!" She grabbed the table for balance.