Stars above. She thought he needed a hug. Perhaps she should have worded that differently.
Not that she minds.
“Do you need distracting, my fire wielder?” she whispers as he slides his hands to her lower back and pulls her against him.
“Anything if it means I don’t have to eat that...glop,” he says under his breath, and she bursts into laughter.
“I wasn’t going to force it down your throat.”
“My mother might.”
With a gentle touch, she traces his wrinkled brow. “I can send for something else, my elven prince.”
Heleans into her hand as he slides his eyes closed. “If she finds out, she may douse me with her water magic. I’m genuinely frightened after meeting her in the arena.”
“Your mother is a force to be reckoned with, but she clearly adores her littlest love.”
His eyes flash open. “I never wish to hear you utter those words again.”
Arisanna sucks in her cheeks to keep from laughing at the horror written across his face. “I’m sorry. It’s so sweet, though.”
“I thought you were supposed to be distracting me.”
“Are you not distracted? I see your lips twitching.”
“My lips would prefer to do something else right now.”
She can’t help herself. Keeping as straight a face as possible, she says, “Something like eating stew?”
He stares at her before shaking his head. “I’m clearly not communicating well.”
To her shock, he scoops her up and deposits her on the bed before crawling over her and hovering there with his dark hair framing his face.
“Was that clearer?” He looks suddenly unsure of himself. He probably didn’t even think before he did it.
“That was pretty clear,” she breathes. If only she were as good at reading him as his mother is. She can imagine the fears rushing through him, though. Fears that she’ll reject him or that he’ll scare her off, even after she gave him everything last night. A faint hint of smoke permeates the air around him, and memories of their time together heat her deep within.
But words to reassure him escape her. Her tongue refuses to cooperate, and for a moment, they just stare at each other. Seeing him while he hovers over her is an entirely different experience from trysting in the dark.
“That wasn’t planned,” he eventually says. His voice is quiet, and she waits for him to continue. “You...I like you more than stew. And then you were there, and all I couldthink of was...” He shrugs, and she strives to keep from smiling, but her lips turn up as her tongue returns to her control.
“So what you’re saying is you came in here to eat stew and then decided I was more appealing than that glop?”
His brow wrinkles. “Yes, but...now that I consider it, I’m uncertain that was worth sharing.”
Laughter wins out, and she clings to his neck as her shoulders shake. “I love you so much.”
“This wasn’t quite the reaction I had in mind.”
“I’ve never felt so attractive. More appealing than glop.”
“Very funny.”
She laughs harder. It feels good to laugh. “I like you more than glop, too.”
“I’m done with this conversation.”
“But I’m enjoying it so—”
