We’re laying boundaries for what could too quickly become a mess. But it feels like we’re tiptoeing close to italreadybeing a mess, and I’m fighting hard not to shove him aside and go invisible again.
I must have my emotions smeared across my face. His eyes soften, and one hand cups my jaw, his thumb sweeping over my cheek. Paired with that look in his eyes, I can’t move, trapped in stone byElethior Touraellooking at me like—
Like—
Like I’m something important.
“We can stop,” he says. “We don’t have to do this.”
He could so easily make it a challenge, another game of chicken, but he doesn’t. His tone is open and warm and muddles my thoughts.
My grip on his shirt firms up and I push back, locking my elbow so he’s away from me about a yard. “No. Not stopping. Give me a sec? Bathroom.”
I dart around him, race up the stairs, throw on the upstairs light, and dive into the bathroom.
I hang there in front of the sink and stare at myself in the mirror.
My eyeliner’s smudged, hair sticking up all over, skin sheened, and crop top twisted. I don’t move to fix anything, my mind racing back over the situation and forward over what’s to come.
It’s just physical.
Just sex.
With Elethior.
My heart’s reaching speeds previously unknown to mortal man. But this isgood. We’re handling this like adults.I’mhandling this like an adult.
I watch myself, waiting for the collapse, for the freak-out.
The only thing that comes is a breathless huff of laughter. I’m… okay?
I’m okay.
I’m going to have sex with Elethior Tourael, and I’m okay.
Why… why do I keep not freaking out with him?
And what am I doing up here if I’m all right?
I frantically wash my hands and splash water on my face, then shove out the door.
But as I cross the upstairs landing, my skin prickles, and I jerk to a halt unconsciously.
Magic’s being cast.
It shunts me into alertness so fast I stagger, scrambling for what vials I could fit in these jeans. I didn’t wear my component belt, but that doesn’t mean I went out defenseless.
Adding to my surprise is that my first thought isn’tIs this Elethior?
Before I can formulate a counterspell, my dad’s on the landing in front of me.
I got all my looks from my mom. Complexion, height. Dad contributed nothing, towering at well over six feet, broad and bulky with an eternally stern expression and once-brown white hair neatly trimmed in a military cut.
He’s slightly translucent, glowing, auras around him pulsating blue.
This isn’t him; it’s an astral projection.
A grimace seizes me.
