Arthur pushed toward us from the back of the venue, a broad smile across his face and his entire body streaked with sweat. His clothes clung to him, revealing the curve of his muscles. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of him striding toward us, leaving the battlefield in his wake.
My warrior.
“I got us all t-shirts,” he boomed, handing me a black shirt featuring an enormous image of a girl in a red dress outside a gothic-style house, holding a raven in her hand. The bird’s beady eye glared out at me, and the band’s name dripped in blood from above the image. I loved it immediately, although I wasn’t sure where I’d ever wear it. Dripping blood didn’t go with the rest of my wardrobe.
Arthur wrapped his arms around me, and I sank into him, his sweat clinging to me. My heart raced. “Thank you,” I whispered in his ear.
“I knew you’d understand,” he whispered back.
Should I say it now? I toyed with the idea as I ran my fingers down his arms, relishing the thickness of his muscles. “You’ve torn your shirt!” I exclaimed, holding up the tattered corner of his long sleeve.
“Yeah,” Arthur grinned sheepishly. “It can get a bit brutal in the pit.”
The material flopped back, giving me a view of the white scars across Arthur’s arm, just beneath his elbow. A fresh cut crossed over the top of them, following the same direction, a thin line of red near its tip where it had bled recently.
“What happened to your arm?” I asked, pointing to the new cut. Corbin, who was walking ahead, whirled around. His eyes narrowed when he saw what I pointed to.
Arthur covered his arm with his hand. “It’s nothing. I cut myself sharpening my sword. It happens.”
“But what about all those other cuts?—”
“Maeve, don’t worry about it.” Arthur thrust his arm behind his body so I couldn’t see it. He tugged me toward the door. “Now tell me, what was your favourite song?”
Arthur and I traded memories from the show all the way back to the apartment. Corbin remained silent. His heavy boots landed in every puddle with a viciousSLAP.
A wave of exhaustion swept over me as soon as I stepped through the door. I glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. It was nearly two am. Corbin, Flynn, and I had our meeting at the National Gallery today at eleven. Ihadto get some sleep.
I’ll find a private moment and tell Arthur in the morning. I’ll tell all of them as soon as I can.
I glanced over at Corbin, who glowered from the doorway while Arthur poured himself a glass of water. Maybe Corbin was having second thoughts? You weren’t supposed to tell another person you loved them during sex. I saw that once on a romantic comedy film Kelly loved. Guys would say anything in the heat of the moment.
Had I messed up?
Arthur hugged me and planted a kiss on my forehead. “You want me to carry you to bed?” he asked, wrapping his tree-trunk arms around me.
I shook my head. “Go. Get some sleep. I’ll be a few minutes. I just want to wash the sweaty crowd off my body.”
“You don’t want company in the shower?” Arthur lifted an eyebrow.
Yes. But I needed to talk to Corbin.
I shook my head.
“Okay. Goodnight, Maeve Moore. I’m glad you liked your surprise.”
As soon as the door to our room shut, Corbin moved away, his shoulders sagging. He headed for the kitchen. “Hey, wait a second.” I reached out and grabbed him, pulling his body against mine. “What’s wrong? You’re not upset about us, are you? About what I said?”
“No.” Concern flashed in Corbin’s eyes. “Unless you didn’t mean it. Because I completely understand if you said it in the heat of the moment.”
I sucked in a breath. “I meant it.”
“Good. So did I.”
His lips found mine, teasing and sweet, so different from the raw need we’d shared earlier when the music got inside us. My chest swelled, my heart straining against my ribs, ready to break out and fly away.
“So why did you go mopey all of a sudden?”
Corbin jabbed a finger toward the door to our room.Arthur.
