“There’s no one around,” he says. His eyes travel from the silver tip of his cane to me, and he watches me as if I should have expected this comment, as if I should know what’s coming, as if I should keep up.
And then he kisses me.
Since we have only kissed a few times, it still shocks me when it happens. It only lasts for a few moments, but it’s tender, and I’m breathless when he pulls away. He slides his hand around my waist and holds me there, our faces only inches apart. The material of the tent beside us presses against my hair.
“I know I haven’t told you, but I like having you around. I like what we have,” he says.
I laugh breathlessly. “Did you bring me here just to kiss me?”
“Did I surprise you?”
“Yes.”
He smiles a wide, boyish smile that makes my heart melt. But it disappears, replaced by hesitation. “I know I’m not impulsive or spontaneous, but I like what we are. I’ve never had this. And I want you to like what we are, too.”
I kiss his cheek. “I promise I like...what we are. As long as you do.”
“What I said before was true—this is very new to me. I’ve rarely had close friends, let alone anything close to a romantic relationship. And I still doubt I’ll ever be a person who looks twice as I pass the House of Delights. But I’m not breakable—you can touch me. I’m a big boy. I can tell you what I want and what I don’t, if I want to stop, if I want to keep going. You have my consent to...touch my neck.” He brushes my fingers against his neck. “Or step close enough that we’re touching.” I inch a step closer, until there is no space between us. “Or kiss me, whenever you want.”
I know this is an invitation to kiss him exactly the way I’ve wanted to for so long, but I’m so amused by his use ofbig boythat I giggle.
“What?” His face reddens. I’ve probably embarrassed him. That was a very serious speech.
Once I have my laugh at his expense, I kiss him the way I want to, the way he wants me to. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and pull him so close that the buttons of his vest press into my stomach. I slide my tongue over his bottom lip, and he runs his fingers through my hair. And after at least a minute of this—maybe two, maybe five—I kiss my way along his jaw, my lips only brushing his skin.
I want to move. The tents are so close that it’s growing claustrophobic and almost uncomfortable, so I say, “Maybe this isn’t the best place for this.”
“I was going to suggest relocating, as well.”
We slide our way out of the tunnel to the other side, free at last. “I’d like to show you the salt pillar,” he says. “Unless you’d rather we go back somewhere else.”
I interpret this as going somewhere private. “What, to your tent?”
“If you’d like.” The words are loaded. Not with the promise of sex—at least, I don’t think so—but of taking this further.
“I feel like you have this idea of me as someone who is walking around in a permanent state of lust,” I say.
“I envision that of most people, actually. It’s not only you. And this is based purely on observation.”
“You observe prettyworkers, Luca,” I say, snorting. “Believe it or not, I’m not a walking mess of urges. And a lot of this is new to me, as well, even if it’s in a different way.” I blush a little to admit this. “Do you mind postponing your offer for another time? I’d like to see that pillar of salt.”
It’s more than that. I’d still like to have my date. I’d still like to hold his hand and walk in public as an item. Me, the girl without eyes, and him, beautiful in a way that makes me feel beautiful just to stand beside him. I still want that private night, even if it’s just lying on his chest. But I want this first.
“Not at all,” he says. He links his arm with mine and walks us down the path. “And I don’tactuallythink of everyone as if they’re in a permanent state of lust.” He laughs. “But you know what they say about Gomorrah girls.”
“Careful, that’s your girl you’re talking about.”
As we turn down the path, we bump shoulders with the princess. She clutches at her bodyguard’s arm but never looks at him, as she’s too preoccupied with the sights around her. She glances at me and then recognizes my face. “Oh! It’s you again.” Without hesitating, she links her second arm with me, and I’m so taken aback that I tense. Luca shrugs beside me. “We’re looking for the pillar of salt. It’s supposedly famous.”
“It’s cursed, Your... Reia,” the man says.
Luca raises his eyebrows but says nothing.
Reia ignores him. “I heard it was once a woman,” she says to me. “Is that true?”
“So the story goes,” Luca says.
She smiles at him, and I grip his hand tighter, a bit possessively. “Do you live here, too? You don’t look like you do.”
