“Always,” he says sincerely. Lucan stands and extends a hand down to me. “We should go. I don’t think anyone saw me catchyou, but it’s hard to be sure.” There’s a worried edge to his tone. He’s no doubt thinking of Cindel and her lackeys tracking us down.
I take his hand and let him help me up, even though I don’t really need it. It’s an excuse for our fingers to linger intertwined. His skin is almost burning hot. He lifts me up, drawing me closer to him than normal. Closer than people tend to stand—closer than friends.
Neither of us move, fingers linked.
“Youstillhaven’t answered me.” I lock eyes with him, speaking with purpose. I’m not moving until he elaborates.
He groans and runs his free hand through his hair. The movement angles his body in just the right way so the bulk of the muscle in his arm is on display. I can’t stop myself from admiring the flare of his shoulders.
Then he turns his gaze fully to mine, and I almost drown in their stormy depths. Brown and gold are warring as much as he seems to be fighting to find his next words.
“I… I don’t know how to dothis,” he finally says, giving my hand a squeeze. “I’ve never been with anyone before. But I know without a doubt that wanting you is the only thing in this fucked-up world that keeps me sane.”
The words are so deliberate, said with such intensity in his stare, they puncture a thousand tiny holes in me. And yet, somehow those same words mend them at the same time.
My grip on his hand tightens, and my heart races—my body betraying me by craving something that I’m certain will destroy me.
“What about you?” Lucan turns the question around. “Surely, you must have your own mixed feelings surrounding a man who was adopted by the vicar after all he’s done to you.”
“You were orphaned. I can’t fault you for clinging to the people essential to your survival. Doing so would make me a monsterworse than the dragons.”
“Worse than the dragons,”he echoes under his breath with a small huff of amusement.
I continue, “And besides, it’s not as though you have a deep, abiding love or loyalty for the vicar or the Creed.”
“Hardly.” He scoffs.
“Most of my ‘mixed feelings’ surrounding you now come from not knowing whatthisis…”
Lucan examines me. His thumb glides over the backs of my knuckles, and I don’t know if the movement is entirely conscious. I think…Ihopeit’s not. I hope he’s as drawn to touch me as I am to him. I take a half step forward. The space between us collapses into a dangerously small distance. Yet so much room still foranythingto happen. Or nothing.
“I might be inexperienced. But I’m pretty sure I can tell you whatthisis.”
“Can you?” My voice is soft.
“You want me.”
I swallow thickly. Three words I’ve only just admitted to myself. So plain. Simple. Obvious.
He continues to study me. “You want me…and that scares you.” His eyes narrow slightly. “Why?”
“Because I’m afraid of letting someone in.” His brow furrows, and I take a deep, silent breath.Don’t ruin the moment. “And, I…I don’t have very much experience inthis,either,” I admit.
Lucan’s expression relaxes, a smile flashing across his face. He leans forward, and the hand not laced with my own cups my cheek, guiding my face upward with a featherlight touch. “We can figure it out, together, if you’re willing.”
A shiver rips through me from his touch. From the implication. From…suddenly not being so afraid. We’re both at a loss. We could both find each other, ourselves in each other. There’s a curl of something exciting that collects in my gut at the notion.
“You’re sure?” I whisper.
“No.” A slight smirk that’s somehow even more reassuring despite what he said.
I can’t stop the smallest of laughs. “Good. Neither am I.”
“I want to kiss you,” he says like it’s nothing, and I forget how to breathe. The fear that streaks through me is nothing like when I’m facing a dragon or squaring off with the vicar. It’s a different sort of fear. One that propels me forward into the unknown. Lucan searches my eyes, oblivious to my pounding heart, as if waiting for me to say no.
I don’t say no.
And he leans down more. My eyes dip closed on instinct, even though a part of me wants to watch him. I inhale slowly, my chest nearly brushing against his. The heat within me is as overwhelming as what radiates off his body. It’s too much and not enough at the same time. Enough that it would put the sun to shame.
