He leaned toward me. I found myself following his lead, expecting him to whisper a secret in my ear. “Did you ever picture yourself at the mercy of arealwitch?” he asked in the gravelly voice of a storyteller trying to frighten a child.
I dumped a handful of leaves on his head. “Ezra! Shut up.”
The leaves floated right out of his hair like oil beading on the surface of water. His eyes gleamed with mischief.
I found that I liked that gleam very much.
So much that I’d once again nearly forgotten why we were here.
Was that his intention?
A little tug of warning made itself known. I refused to acknowledge it. “Do you wish you had a real teacher? To learn more about your wild magic, I mean.”
“You mean like you did? Josephine, you didn’t have teachers.” His voice changed so abruptly, I shifted my weight, recoiling from the coldness in it. “Teachers encourage you to discover everything you can, to ask questions. You’ve only ever been told what to do and what to believe. And never to question anything. You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
The buzzing knowledge that he wasn’t wrong did nothing to discourage what I blurted in response. “I’mgladI’m here.”
“In Frostbrook?” He snorted. “Surely it leaves much to be desired after living in Sterling City.”
“Yes, here,” I insisted, sounding far too earnest for my liking. “I feel good here. Like I’m breathing for the first time in my life.”
He gave me a dubious look, and it should have made me angry, but it only made me desperate to be believed.
“I’m glad I’m here with you, too,” I said. “Is that childish? Do you think I’m ridiculous to feel that way?”
Of all the things I thought I might see on his face, pain was not one of them. Still, it flashed there too starkly to be ignored.
Shame rustled against my skin. He was nothing more than a stranger in the woods. And I was laying my feelings bare. Whatever my feelings were.
I wasn’t sure what they were.
But I hated them. Hated the way he reacted to them.
Neither of us said anything for far too long to be comfortable. It became silent enough for me to know that the voices in the trees were gone. The bandits, or whoever they’d been, had moved on. Now it was only me, Ezra, several huge rocks, and a great deal of discomfort.
“It’s not childish,” he finally whispered.
I should have asked him what hurt so much.
I should have questioned how he’d found me in the woods.
Instead, I surged against him, hands on his thighs, and kissed him.
It was a crash of teeth at first. I huffed a nervous giggle against his mouth. I knew how kissing worked. Everyone did. But I was pretty sure I hadn’t practiced enough.
To my relief, he seemed to have had more experience. His fingers drifted up my arms, carefully mapping their way to my shoulders. He made a low sound like a sob, but when I pulled back to see if he was upset, he ran his fingers into my short hair and gently held me close. I stilled, my breath catching. I’d never felt anything like the tenderness of his hold, as if he thought I were made of brittle glass and not flesh and bone.
“Jo.” My name was anguish on his lips, but his kiss was soft and eager. Our lips parted and met again, more daring now. My fingers tangled in his shirt, grasping at him as if I’d tumble into oblivion if I let go.
Heat flooded through me, nothing like the cold fire of radiance. This was pure warmth. Sunlight and hot springs.
I trembled.
“Is this okay?” I managed to ask between what was rapidly becoming something more than a tentative attempt at kissing a boy.
He let his hands drop to his sides and rested his forehead against mine. When it took him a moment to answer, my stomach dropped. What if I’d moved too fast, too far?
“Yes.” His soft puff of breath at my face helped soothe the painful beating of my heart. “I didn’t think you’d do that.”
