Page 5 of The Genie’s Wish (Harmony Glen #10)

Chapter Five

RAYA

I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. Going to dinner with a genie—a man I barely know. A man I’ve seen do…an unfortunate thing.

This morning was a hard one. Finding the strength to get out of bed, well, it took me until the afternoon.

But I did it. I got up, I got showered and ready. And I feel…better than expected. Stressed-out for sure, but still.

I’m just proud of myself for pushing through the thick fog in my brain, and not canceling. That’s got to count for something.

What doesn’t count for anything is sitting on the edge of my bed, still in my towel. I need to get dressed and moving, but my limbs don’t feel like listening.

How am I even supposed to dress for…whatever this is? Is this a date? No, it’s not. I mean, why would it be a date?

He just wants to explain himself to me, for reasons unknown to me. It’s not that he’s interested. I need to not read into this too much.

As if I wasn’t already overthinking it.

Finding my legs, I stand up from my bed, making my way slowly to my closet. If I dress up too much, then he’ll think I care. But if I’m too casual, he might just leave.

And that would be embarrassing.

But…why do I care? I shouldn’t. He’s nothing more than a problematic genie. A temporary problem, since he’s not from Harmony Glen.

Yet, the thought of this new problem disappearing makes my chest hurt.

I shake the thoughts away, sliding my hangers across the bar as I scan my clothes. I’ll keep it mostly casual—some black jeans and a nice top.

As I put my hand on a high-necked long sleeve, my eyes travel over to the shirt tucked into the back corner. A shirt I bought ages ago, but haven’t had somewhere to wear.

I can’t really have anywhere to wear it though if I don’t make plans.

Screw it, I’ll wear it tonight.

I snatch it from the hanger, grabbing a belt from where it’s strewn on top of the dresser. Quickly, I change, staring at myself in the mirror once I have everything on.

The top is much lower-cut than I thought, but that’s what I get for not trying things on before I buy. Not that I’m complaining—it’s very flattering.

Will he even notice?

Ugh, why do I even want him to notice? I can mentally scold myself on the way there. If I don’t leave now, I’ll be late.

As I head out the door, I quickly shoot a text to Orie.

On my way to dinner now—if you don’t hear from me again, he probably made me disappear!!

She responds simply, not showing me any concern.

Remember to have fun 3

Have fun? With him? Well…I guess it doesn’t seem like a totally impossible idea.

My heart pounds as I stand outside the restaurant. What if I beat him here? Am I supposed to get a table then?

As I push through the door, I instantly see the light blue of his skin from across the room. His eyes meet mine, and they almost look like they light up. That can’t be the case though, can it?

I’ll have to tell Orie about all of this tomorrow, and she can tell me if I read into anything. Maybe he is interested though, and that’s why he cares about what I think of him.

When I approach the table, he stands, moving to pull my chair out for me. Very gentlemanlike, which is a surprise after the penis-pants incident.

“Pinky, you came.” He helps me tuck my chair in before sitting down again.

I narrow my eyes at him. “Well, we had a plan, didn’t we?”

Did he really think I wouldn’t show up? He cared if I showed up? Why is my heart beating so fast?

“I’m just happy to spend this time with you.” He smiles.

My cheeks feel warm almost instantly, and the feeling of butterflies fills my stomach—a sensation I haven’t felt in years. Honestly, I thought I had lost that ability.

I brush aside the fluttering, trying to stay as stone cold as possible. “You were going to tell me how you aren’t a completely shitty genie?”

He isn’t shaken at all, instead, he has a charming smile on. One that only makes my heart beat faster.

“Yes, I was.” His voice is smooth and sultry, his eyes darting around my face. “Before people like me—so-called monsters—were actually welcomed to society, we lived in secret.”

I blink at him, but say nothing; am I getting a history lesson, or an explanation?

“Back then,” he continues, “I granted wishes with complete accuracy. Still for a price, but always accurately.”

Tilting my head, I press, “So, what changed?”

“When I integrated into society, people still wanted wishes—and I wanted to grant them—but no one was interested in me .” His eyes shift, the light gray losing some of its shine.

Suddenly, my heart aches for him. This isn’t the answer I expected, and it’s making me feel bad about my initial opinion of him.

Granted, I did see him make a man’s penis pop out of his pants. Even so, the reasoning almost makes me want to forget about it.

Almost.

When I don’t say anything, he continues. “So, I started to scam people, I guess would be the term. Twisting wishes ever so slightly if people weren’t careful with their wording.”

“Did you do that to everyone?” I ask, resting my cheek on one of my hands.

He shakes his head. “No. I didn’t scam elderly people, or those who I could tell had pure intentions. People looking solely for their own gain, or just had silly wishes, though? Yeah, I scammed them.”

Well, at least he seems to have some sort of code he grants wishes by, meaning he isn’t a complete trickster.

“I’ll be honest, I rarely feel bad about messing up people’s wishes,” he reveals, his eyes not leaving mine. “But when I saw your face after the last wish I granted…”

Is he saying that for the first time in forever, he felt bad…and because of me ? I didn’t even mean to make him feel bad.

Why do I even affect him? He doesn’t know me. I’m no one important, at least not in his life.

I open my mouth to say something, but the server approaches the table. Snapping my lips shut, I quickly scan the menu.

Arman gestures toward me, so I order first. Once I’m done, he places his own, the silence that follows laced with anticipation for the waiter to leave. The moment they turn and take one step away, my eyes are locked back onto Arman.

“The point is, I want to change my ways—or at least, try to.” He gives me a smile, his shoulders falling.

I ask the only question that lingers in my mind. “Why?”

“Because of you,” he answers simply.

The server arrives seconds later with our drinks and food. The service is quick here at Brady’s Diner. So fast, I can’t help wondering if there’s some sort of monster magic involved.

It’s also been so long since I’ve been out, I had forgotten how nice it was to have someone cook for you.

I take a sip of my water before getting back to the matter at hand.

“But why?” I press, narrowing my eyes.

He shrugs, his smile grows a bit cheekier, and something in his eyes shifts. “Why, did you think of a wish you want granted?”

Is that seriously what he thinks I want here? Clearly, I’ve been misreading everything, and this is not a date by any means.

My stomach hurts at the idea, and suddenly my food looks less appetizing than before. I stare at my plate, trying to decide if it’s worth it to stay or not.

His voice cuts through my internal debate, his tone much softer as he asks, “What’s wrong?”

Looking back up at him, the gleam in his eyes is still there, but his smile has faltered. He does look concerned, but probably because all he wants is to grant some wish of mine and get paid.

“I have no interest in wishing upon stars…or genies.” I swallow the lump forming in my throat, regretting the words the moment they leave my lips.

His eyes soften, the devilish gleam that was there moments ago completely gone. “And what a delight that is, darling.”

Is he going to take that as I have no interest in him specifically? Not that I care, of course. I’m not interested, so I don’t know why I’m stressing about it.

No interest in the genie that makes penises explode through pants.

Zero.

What does he mean by delight , though? I look at him, my brows furrowing all the way. This sparks his smile again, which only makes my brows drop lower.

“What?” I quickly ask, taking a hesitant bite of my meal.

He shakes his head slightly. “Nothing, you just look cute when you scrunch your brows down like that.”

I look…what?

My cheeks instantly warm, and I sit back in the chair, watching Arman as he mirrors me and takes his first bite. His eyes dart down from mine, staring at the plate intently.

“Oh, my Gods, this is good.” He scarfs down another bite, and I can’t help but laugh.

He gives me a grin before taking another bite, his focus totally pulled away. I can’t lie, the level of intensity he has right now is weirdly hot.

Gods, no, I did not just think that. He’s not hot.

But he so is.

I raise a brow at him, hoping my staring wasn’t obvious. “What, have you never had a grilled cheese before?”

With a head tilt, he raises a brow back at me. “Of course I have, but none this good. Maybe I’ll have to move to Harmony Glen.”

“For a grilled cheese?” I laugh, instantly trying to choke it down, but it’s too late.

His eyes light up victoriously, and I scold myself for laughing—I can’t help it. This feels almost…natural.

Each second that passes reveals a different layer about him, and I grow more and more curious about just how deep they go. Curiosity is dangerous, though.

He runs his tongue across his lip rather slowly, my eyes darting between it and his eyes, before he says, “For the grilled cheese, and maybe another reason.”

My heart is pounding in my chest. What is the other reason? Why is he looking at me like that?

If he moves here, that means I’ll have to see him around town. But at this moment, the idea doesn’t sound so bad.

I adjust how I’m sitting, crossing one leg over the other. When I move it, though, I brush his leg accidentally, bringing our gazes together instantly.

In this moment, eyes locked with the tricky genie across from me, I feel something else I haven’t felt in forever—a flutter between my legs.

Gods, what is wrong with me? Am I falling for him ? After what I witnessed?

Coming out tonight was a horrible idea, and I never should have agreed. I don’t want to let anyone else into my life. I don’t want to have to open up to anyone about anything .

Dating is painful, and I need to put a stop to this before it goes too far.

His hand grazes mine, sending electricity up my arm. Disappointment floods me as he keeps it moving, landing on his napkin.

“Pinky, we should go for a walk or something tomorrow,” he suggests, lifting the napkin to his mouth and wiping away any crumbs.

My heart reacts faster than my brain. “It’s Raya—and okay.”

Well, shit. He’s causing a war inside me, but the question is, who will win? My heart or my mind?

And why do I kind of hope it’s my heart that comes out on top?